


Strength of Heart

by Kicon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Bisexual Dean Thomas, Bullying, Canon Character of Color, Canon Relationships, Canonical Character Death, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay Seamus Finnigan, Getting Together, Heavy Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Slice of Life, Slow Build, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter), Trans Male Character, Transgender, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 51,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25539208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kicon/pseuds/Kicon
Summary: A coming of age story that follows Seamus Finnigan through his years at Hogwarts as he becomes the man he was always meant to be. He'll have to face transphobia, bullying, and his own darkest fears, but lifelong love and friendship may just be waiting for him at the end of it.
Relationships: Lavender Brown/Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnigan & Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 28
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I don't normally put an author's note at the beginning of my fics, but I felt it was important to address a few things before we begin.
> 
> Strength of Heart is a coming of age story that follows Seamus Finnigan through his years as Hogwarts, primarily focused on how his experiences are shaped by being a trans gay man. I, however, am a cis bisexual woman. I recognize that this can be problematic. I know that #OwnVoices are incredibly important in creating accurate and respectful portrayals of minority communities. I am incapable of fully understanding the trans experience because I am not trans, and I realize that this may skew my writing. I had three great beta readers from the trans community go through this story, and I've sat on it for over a year, mulling it over and making sure it was respectful and not harmful to the beautiful community I'm trying to represent.
> 
> A lot of people call my first deamus fic, _Before I Knew_ , the deamus bible. I am continuously blown away and humbled by the response the fandom has had to _BIK_. That story means so much to me, and I'm so happy it means so much to all of you. However, I want it to be known that I didn't set out to write the trans Seamus bible. I am not trying to define or limit the trans experience to what I've written. The trans community is vast and wide, and each person goes on a different path in terms of recognizing their identity, coming out, transitioning, and more.
> 
> I also want to address J.K. Rowling's most recent transphobic remarks (June 2020). I can't begin to imagine the pain that this caused trans HP fans. Rowling spoke from ignorance and fear, and it's incredibly disheartening and disappointing to see such hate come from a person who wrote books that taught many of us what the power of love is. I absolutely stand against transphobia. Everyone deserves to live in a world free of discrimination where they can be fully themselves.
> 
> I want you all to know that with posting this story I am not trying to be the cis savior of the fandom. When Rowling made those tweets, I'd been in the middle of a final revision, and I became unsure of ever posting this story for fear of coming off that way. I decided to post it anyway because I believe I've written a meaningful story. I tried putting myself in Seamus' shoes, trying to see how I would feel in a world that didn't see me for who I was. As a bisexual person, I know how that can feel. I tried to write from that universal truth inside of me, and I hope that rings out.
> 
> On another note, I've tried to balance being respectful and using modern terms and definitions with writing realistically about isolated magic kids in the 1990s. Some things, therefore, might come off as inaccurate in our modern understanding of gender. For example, the kids first define Seamus being trans as being a boy inside a girl's body. This, I know, is outdated thinking, but they're eleven year olds with no resources. This is one of the reasons I've posted the whole story at once, so you can see that shift in their understanding come toward our modern definitions.
> 
> Finally, I want to warn y'all that this story deals with some heavy subject matter, such as transphobia and bullying, especially in the first third. Throughout the story I've put content warnings on different sections that need them. If I missed something that you think should be warned for, please let me know.
> 
> Thank you for listening. Thank you to my beta readers, christhebish, bitheby-13, and astrallouis. And now, I give you _Strength of Heart_.

"Finnigan, Siobhan!"

A girl with shoulder-length sandy blonde hair and freckles across her nose stepped forward out of the diminishing line of first years, shakily walking up to the stool that sat in front of the entire hall. The intimidating witch dropped the ratty hat onto the girl's head, and it slipped over her forehead and almost covered her eyes.

"An interesting mind in here," a voice whispered in her ear.

Her heart quickened. Her mother had told her about this, about the hat that would read her heart and speak in her mind. Parents weren't supposed to tell their children how the Sorting Ceremony worked, so Siobhan had to keep it a secret, but she was still surprised by the voice in her head despite having been forewarned.

"Quite a lot of spirit," the voice continued. "A dash of recklessness, much strength of heart. Loyal to a tee, and clever if you put your mind to it. Let's see...Slytherin is out for sure."

A smile came to her face at that. Her mam had said that only bad wizards came out of Slytherin.

"Ravenclaw _could_ work, if you pushed yourself in the right way. Alas, no," the hat mused. "Hufflepuff might be a very nice match, eh?"

 _No!_ she thought, glancing over at the table where students had yellow-trimmed robes. While they looked nice enough, her mam had said Hufflepuff students didn't amount to much of anything.

"Ah, but you're quite the fighter," the hat said. "Yes, I can see that now. Strength of heart indeed. Best be, GRYFFINDOR!"

The final word rang out into the hall as the far table began applauding loudly. The witch pulled the hat off of Siobhan's head, and she went over to the red-decked table. Siobhan sat next to the blonde girl who'd been the first Gryffindor sorted and looked around the table. All the happy faces were already turned to the next student being sorted, and a warm bubble began to inflate in her chest. Despite feeling out of place her entire life, she had an inkling that perhaps she could find a place here at Hogwarts.

HPHPHP

It turned out that finding a place here was more difficult than Siobhan had initially thought.

Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati were fine dormmates, but Lavender and Parvati had become attached at the hip within two days, and Hermione sort of got under everybody's skin, so Siobhan was left without much in the way of friends. She could try reaching out to the first year boys, but they intimidated her for reasons she couldn't quite define. (The girls intimidated her too, if she was honest, but she at least knew how to interact with them.)

And so, for a month and a half, Siobhan kept largely to herself, which was something she'd always done and was quite used to. Still, it was rather depressing, having to continue the loner habits she'd developed throughout childhood at the place she thought all that would change.

Sitting out in the common room by herself, she saw Parvati and Lavender in a corner by a window gossiping about something as Parvati braided Lavender's long blonde hair. Siobhan tugged lightly at her short locks; she'd never liked having long hair, no matter how much her mother had encouraged it.

A bout of cajoling laughter sounded to her right, and she saw the first year boys gathered around a chess board. From what she could tell, Ron had spectacularly beaten Neville, which she didn't think was very fair because Neville didn't seem to be good at much of anything. Harry and Ron high-fived while Dean gave Neville a comforting smile. Neville didn't seem too upset, though, as he was laughing too.

Siobhan felt a longing as she'd never felt before when she watched them. She wanted to join them, and not just play chess with them. She wanted to...well, she wanted to be one of them.

She'd never fit in with the few girl friends that lived in her neighborhood in Ireland, but she'd attributed it to them being Muggles and her being a witch. But after these past couple months at Hogwarts, surrounded by witches and wizards, that reasoning didn't stand anymore.

She closed her eyes against the feeling in her stomach, like a snitch was whizzing around inside and making her nauseous. This longing had been in the back of her mind for so long, and now that it had been brought to the forefront, she didn't really know what to do with it.

HPHPHP

_[content warning: forced coming out, misgendering]_

"You don't have to be shy, you know," Parvati said to Siobhan one morning, smiling gently as she put her long dark hair into its standard plait. "We all have the same parts."

Siobhan paused on her way to the bathroom, where she'd been changing for the past two months. Her grip tightened on the robes in her hands, and her heart beat a little quicker.

"That's the problem," she mumbled.

"What'd you say?" Lavender asked.

She cleared her throat and answered loudly, "I said, that's the problem."

There was a pause, and Siobhan considered fleeing and locking herself in the bathroom for the rest of eternity. Her heart was beating in her throat now. She chanced looking at her dormmates and was surprised to see only mildly confused looks on their faces.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"I…" Siobhan swallowed.

"Talk to us," Parvati said quickly, sitting down on her bed and patting the spot next to her.

Siobhan hesitated, then walked over, conscious that she was still in her pajamas. She sat next to Parvati, and Lavender and Hermione gathered closer.

"I've, uh, sometimes—well, since I was a kid, it's…" Siobhan pursed her lips. She'd never before tried to express this feeling aloud, and it was suddenly hard to find the words. "I think I, uh, was meant to be a boy."

Siobhan squeezed their eyes shut, waiting for the girls to turn on them. Surely the reactions would be negative: name-calling, accusations—

"Oh! I've read about that," Hermione said promptly, interrupting Siobhan's thought spiral. "That's called transgender."

Siobhan looked at her, mouth agape. "What?"

Hermione nodded. "It's when people feel different on the inside, I think. So on the outside you look like a girl, but on the inside you feel like a boy? Is that right?"

"I think so," Siobhan said slowly.

" _I've_ never heard of that," Lavender said, folding her arms and frowning.

Hermione shrugged. "Might be a Muggle thing."

"So that's why you don't want to change in front of us?" Parvati asked.

Siobhan nodded. "I just feel weird."

"So do you want to move to the boys' dorm?" Lavender asked.

"We should go talk to Professor McGonagall," Hermione suggested. "She'll know what to do."

Panic flared up inside Siobhan. "No! No!" Siobhan looked down at her hands, which were knotted in the robes she'd yet to put on. "I've…Ye're all the first to know. I've never told anyone else. It's…"

"Scary?" Parvati finished, then smiled and gave Siobhan a side hug. "Well, whatever you decide, we'll support you."

"Yeah," Lavender said as Hermione nodded fervently.

Siobhan smiled and felt a little teary, for this reaction was completely unexpected.

Hermione glanced down at her watch. "Oh, we'd better get down to breakfast."

Parvati stood up and smiled at Siobhan. "You change, and we'll save you a seat downstairs."

Siobhan nodded and smiled as they all departed through the dormitory door, then allowed a few tears to roll before furiously wiping them away. Determined to act as if nothing had changed, Siobhan dressed and went to breakfast and attended classes as normal. But when Siobhan and the girls arrived back at Gryffindor Tower that evening before supper, it was the end of pretending.

As they went up to the dormitory that evening, Lavender was doing a spectacular impression of Professor Binns' droning voice, and they were laughing with her as they walked through the doorway to the girls' staircase. Siobhan was only a couple steps up the staircase when suddenly it wasn't a staircase anymore, and it was a stone slide instead. All four of them tripped, slid, and landed in a mess of limbs at the foot of the staircase. There was a yelp somewhere up the tower, and a moment later a sixth year came down on top of them.

"Which boy tried getting up the stairs?" she asked irritably, clambering off the group of first years and casting an appraising look over the common room.

"What boy?" Lavender asked in confusion, but Hermione quickly swatted the back of her head.

"Oh, he ran off," Parvati said, straightening up and trying to help the others. "Don't think he was expecting it to do that."

The sixth year rolled her eyes. "There's always one in the beginning of the year."

"How long till it goes back to being stairs?" Lavender asked, rubbing her head and lightly glaring at Hermione.

"No telling," the sixth year said with a sigh. "Could be five minutes, could be an hour or longer."

"Well, no point waiting around here," Parvati said, then grabbed her dormmates and pulled them out of the common room.

"Why did that happen?" Lavender whispered once they were down the stairs a little from the portrait hole.

"It had to be Siobhan, right?" Hermione said. "She said she's a boy, and the staircase doesn't work for boys."

Parvati turned to face Siobhan, whose face was white.

"I know you're scared, but I don't think we have another option. We have to talk to McGonagall," she said. "Now."

Siobhan could do nothing but nod. Parvati started leading the way, then realized she didn't know where Professor McGonagall's office actually was. Hermione took them to the staffroom, where Professor Flitwick gave them directions.

Despite the detour to the staffroom, they arrived at Professor McGonagall's first floor office much faster than Siobhan would have liked, and Siobhan stood rooted to the floor several feet away from the door. Lavender noticed and walked over, squeezing Siobhan's wrist.

"Come on now. It'll be okay," Lavender murmured. "There's nothing we can do if you can't get up the stairs, is there?"

Siobhan nodded and allowed Lavender to pull them jerkily forward as Hermione rapped clearly three times on the door. It opened moments later, Professor McGonagall looking curiously down at all of them.

"What is it, girls?" she asked. "You should be getting ready for supper."

"We need to speak to you," Parvati said. "Privately."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows but, upon seeing the seriousness on Parvati's face and Siobhan's pale and terrified expression, she let them in and closed the door.

"Please explain," she said, summoning three more chairs in front of her desk. "And have a biscuit." She indicated the tin on the edge of the desk.

Siobhan was mildly tempted to grab one as an excuse not to talk, but everyone was waiting expectantly and nausea was rising so fast that Siobhan wasn't sure a bite would stay down. They all took a seat, and McGonagall waited expectantly, but the words couldn't seem to crawl their way up Siobhan's throat.

"Siobhan?" Parvati prompted gently.

Lavender took Siobhan's hand and squeezed tightly. Siobhan's eyes closed, and then she took a breath.

"Th...the staircase," Siobhan said slowly. "It's a...slide."

McGonagall sighed softly. "Yes. A protective measure put in by our Founders—"

"That's not it, Professor," Parvati interrupted, then nodded at Siobhan to keep going.

The words were stuck in Siobhan's throat, harder to say than expected. It was supposed to be easy now, wasn't it? Since it had been admitted once, saying it again should be a piece of cake. But now...now Siobhan was having doubts. Was this right? Was this how Siobhan actually felt? Would this be moving too fast? What if Siobhan changed her mind?

Then Lavender squeezed Siobhan's hand again, and Siobhan remembered how good it had felt to tell the girls and be accepted, how good it felt to be recognized.

Siobhan squeezed back, and then began again. "It...is a slide for me."

McGonagall tilted her head to the side, her expression not changing a bit as she listened intently.

"I'm a…boy," Siobhan said. "I know I don't look it, but it's true. I told them this morning, and now the stairs won't let me up."

"So you see," Hermione said, "Siobhan has to be transferred to the boys' tower."

McGonagall nodded slowly, then turned to Siobhan. "Is that what you wish? We could provide other accommodations if you require."

Siobhan swallowed thickly. "The boys' dorm is fine, I just—"

"You're worried about how you will be received?" McGonagall finished.

Siobhan nodded.

"I believe it will all be fine. This is not the first case of a student switching dorms," McGonagall said. "I'll have a house elf move your bed to the boys' tower. Is there anything else you require? A different name to go by, or—"

"N-No, ma'am," Siobhan said. "Not right now, anyway." A sudden panic flared up. "And—and could ye not, er, not tell me mam about this?"

"Of course," McGonagall replied. "I will go with you to explain to the other boys the new situation."

Siobhan imagined that: standing behind McGonagall as she explained to the boys that Siobhan was now to be staying with them. Siobhan blanched at the thought, and Lavender noticed.

"It's okay, we can tell them," Lavender said.

"How?" Parvati asked. "Won't the stairs not let us up?"

"Oh, that's only for the girls' stairs," Hermione interrupted. "It's in _Hogwarts, A History_. The founders thought boys were less trustworthy."

"Take five points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," McGonagall said with a smile. "It's always a pleasure to see a student interested in supplementary knowledge."

Hermione beamed, and then they were all escorted out of McGonagall's office.

"I shall alert the Headmaster, of course, but I see no reason why this cannot stay between us for now," McGonagall said to Siobhan in a hushed voice as they lingered in the doorway.

Siobhan smiled gratefully. The walk up to Gryffindor Tower seemed to go by much faster than normal, and they quickly crossed the common room to the boys' staircase so as to attract as little attention as possible. They had to go all the way up to the top floor, just like in the girls' tower, and they saw the four boys standing around a fifth bed looking confused. Siobhan recognized the trunk sitting underneath the bed as hers.

"Oh, erm, hello," Neville said upon noticing them.

"D'you know if we're getting a late transfer student or something?" Ron asked.

"Sort of," Hermione said. She'd become friends with Harry and Ron since the events of Halloween night, and Siobhan was grateful for that connection, as it seemed like they were more likely to listen to her now. "You know Siobhan?"

Siobhan had kind of been hiding behind Lavender and Parvati, but the two girls stepped aside at that moment, and the boys' gazes locked on Siobhan.

"Yeah, we're partners in Potions," Dean said, smiling at Siobhan.

Siobhan smiled back. "The, uh...the trunk is mine."

"Are you...living here now?" Harry asked.

Ron looked confused. "But she's a girl!"

Siobhan's insides twisted, and she looked down at the floor. "Not really. I'm uh…" Siobhan looked at Hermione.

"Transgender," she supplied helpfully.

"Yeah," Siobhan said. "It means I'm a boy on the inside."

"And anyway the girls' stairs turn into a slide if Siobhan tries to go up them, so this is the other option," Parvati explained. "McGonagall cleared it already."

"If that's alright?" Siobhan said. "I promise not to be a bother, and 'm sorry to be forced on ye like this, it's just—" Siobhan sighed.

"Of course it's alright," Dean said, then looked at the others. "Right?"

Harry and Neville nodded. Ron looked a little dubious, but he shrugged.

"Great!" Hermione said, clapping her hands together.

"And if you're mean to him, we'll hear about it!" Lavender said fiercely.

Siobhan was so shocked by Lavender's use of _him_ that she forgot to be touched by the rest of Lavender's sentiment. It was such a small difference, yet so very nice. It certainly felt better than "her" at any rate. Siobhan was amazed at what a difference a three-letter word could make. It felt like part of the place Siobhan had been hoping to find for herself was located in that simple word.

"Let us know if there are problems," Parvati whispered as she and the other girls passed, then they all disappeared out of sight.

The silence that followed after the dormitory door clicked shut was the heaviest and most awkward silence Siobhan had ever experienced, and it immediately crushed the _him_ -induced euphoria. Siobhan stared at the floor, feeling more self-conscious than ever before.

"I'll, er, unpack later. See you at supper, then," Siobhan said quickly, following after the girls down the stairs.

In the Great Hall, Siobhan sat with Lavender, Parvati, and Hermione. The boys joined them a few minutes later, and Siobhan had never felt so out of place and alien in her life. Ron blushed when he looked at Siobhan and quickly looked away, instead sitting next to Hermione with Harry across from him. Neville gave a little wave, and Dean smiled and sat next to Siobhan but didn't say anything. Dean's presence actually relaxed Siobhan some; it felt like they were just sitting together in Potions like normal.

Later, Siobhan lingered in the common room while everybody dispersed themselves either up the staircases or into the armchairs. Once everyone seemed occupied, Siobhan slipped behind the door to the boys' staircase, hoping nobody noticed. The last thing Siobhan wanted was even more attention.

When Siobhan arrived in the dorm, the boys were each either sitting on or mulling about their own beds, and didn't look up. Feeling isolated, Siobhan quickly pulled out the pajamas and changed in the bathroom. Siobhan then went to bed and pulled the curtains tight, wondering if this was perhaps a huge mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

In the morning, Siobhan woke well before the boys but couldn't tell if that was due to the new environment, the panic of rooming with boys, or a combination of both.

Muffled snores were coming from across the room, and someone gave a snort. While the boys' dorm had the same architecture as the girls', there were some marked differences. There was a distinct smell difference; while not exactly a bad smell, it was definitely mustier, and Siobhan kind of missed Lavender's flowery perfume. In the girls' dorm, Hermione would always wake before them, and Siobhan often woke to the sound of pages flipping from the girl's bed. Siobhan longed for that familiarity again, even if it was in a place she didn't belong.

After laying still for a while, Siobhan quietly pulled open the bed curtains and decided to use this time to change before the others woke up. By the time Siobhan had changed and exited the bathroom, Dean had woken up and was getting out of bed.

"Oh, good morning," Dean greeted with a small smile. His pajamas were rumpled, and his tightly curly hair was flattened on one side.

Siobhan waved a little, feeling self-conscious. "Morning."

Out of the four boys, Dean was the one Siobhan knew the most, but despite being partners in Potions they still hadn't talked much, and Siobhan never pushed him to. Dean seemed like a quiet soul.

"So, um…" he started.

"This is weird, I know," Siobhan said hurriedly. "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"No, no, hold on," Dean interrupted. "I mean, it is a little weird, yeah, but not a bad weird. But I wanted to say I actually have heard of, um…what was it called?"

"Transgender," Siobhan answered. "I hadn't heard of it before." Siobhan looked down and kicked a foot against their bed and then a realization hit, one that expanded and warmed Siobhan's heart. "I guess, since there's a word for it, that means I'm not the only one?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

Siobhan smiled and suddenly didn't feel quite so strange. "Sorry, ye were sayin'?"

"Oh, just, if…if there's anything we can do?" Dean said. "D'you want a different name? Do you want us to call you a boy?"

"Oh!" Siobhan felt surprised. This had been unexpected. "I hadn't thought about a name."

"What about a nickname?" Dean suggested. "Something more neutral, perhaps?"

Siobhan shrugged. "I dunno. I've never had a nickname."

"Let's see…Siobhan. Siobhan. Siobhan," Dean mumbled. "How about Shiv?"

"Shiv?" Siobhan laughed. "'M not a knife."

"Right, um…Vaughn? Vaughny?"

Siobhan wrinkled their nose. "Nah."

"Sh…Shih?" Dean tried. "Shee? Sheh? Shea?"

"Shea," Siobhan repeated. "I like Shea."

"Alright then," Dean said, nodding. "Shea."

"And, um…could ye call me 'he'? Just ye, though, for now. I wanna see how it feels."

"No problem," Dean replied.

And when Dean smiled at him, Shea smiled back.

HPHPHP

_[content warning: discussion of dead name and misgendering]_

One of the good things about being a first year was that people didn't really pay attention to you. As it was, few people noticed that Shea had started coming up and down the boys' stairs instead, and those who did notice didn't comment. After a while, and with Shea's permission, Dean helped correct people to say "Shea" instead of "Siobhan" and "he" instead of "she," and already Shea was beginning to feel like he found a place he belonged in addition to a true friend.

He and Dean fell into an easy stride so quickly Shea was surprised they hadn't become friends faster. With Dean's support, Shea felt freer to be himself, and Dean's softer presence of being balanced Shea's rather fiery one.

They spent time between classes studying together or exchanging stories from their childhood. Shea was interested to hear about Dean's Muggle upbringing, always exclaiming in surprise upon learning some new Muggle way of doing things. Shea's father was a Muggle, but he had left Shea and Mrs. Finnigan fairly quickly after learning that his wife was a witch. Shea occasionally got a Christmas or birthday card from him, but other than that they hadn't had much contact. As such, Shea was almost entirely ignorant of the Muggle world.

Most of the time, Shea would just ramble about anything while Dean drew. It turned out that Dean was a talented artist, but he was a little embarrassed about it. He let Shea see his drawings, though, and Shea thought they were brilliant. Dean always ducked his head and took them away whenever Shea said so.

It was the best year Shea had ever had. But as spring waned and final exams loomed, Shea's mood began to drop severely.

"Are you worried about going home?" Dean asked.

Shea nodded. "I'm gonna be Siobhan again."

"No you won't," Dean replied. "That's just a name. Doesn't change you."

Shea knew he was right, in a way, but names still carried weight. That was why Dean had offered to come up with a nickname in the first place, wasn't it? The name Siobhan carried femininity and girlhood with it, along with all those years of feeling out of place and different. That was all going to return over the summer, and there wasn't anything Shea could do about it.

"You'll write to me, won't you?" Dean asked. "I don't have an owl—couldn't keep one in our flat anyway. So you'll have to write first, and then I can send by return owl. I—" He faltered, smiling shyly at Shea. "If you want to, that is."

"Are ye mad?" Shea started, causing Dean's face to fall at first. "Of course I'll write ye. I imagine it'll be the only thing that keeps me sane with me mam runnin' round callin' me her sweet _cailín_."

Dean raised his eyebrows at the foreign word.

"Girl," Shea translated.

He nodded in understanding. "Maybe your mum would let you visit me? It'll be a tight fit, mind. I've got three younger sisters, and there's my parents."

Shea nodded excitedly. "Yeah, maybe!"

And the two boys looked forward to the summer in high spirits.


	3. Chapter 3

_[content warning: misgendering]_

As it turned out, Shea hadn't been able to visit Dean that summer, or the summer after that. Ms. Finnigan didn't approve of allowing her 'daughter' to visit a boy, especially when said boy lived in London and she hadn't even met his parents. Still, they wrote to each other all summer, and when they got to school again in the fall it was like they'd never been apart. But when Ms. Finnigan got ahold of some tickets to the Quidditch World Cup the summer before fourth year, Shea was allowed to bring a friend.

"Can I invite Dean?" Shea asked eagerly.

Ms. Finnigan eyed him. "How about one of yer girl friends?"

"None of them like Quidditch," Shea protested. He was closest to Lavender and could invite her if it came down to it, but he knew she wouldn't enjoy it very much. "Dean loves Quidditch. And he's my _best_ friend."

"Ye sure he's not _more_ than a friend?" she teased, reaching out and ruffling Shea' short pixie-cut hair.

Shea's face flamed, and he ducked away from his mother. "Mam, gross! Stop it!"

"Well, if it's alright with his parents, I suppose he can tag along," she conceded.

"Yes, right, okay, I'll write him now," Shea said quickly before she could change her mind.

"He'll have to bring a change of clothes, and a sleepin' bag!" Ms. Finnigan called after him as he sprinted up the stairs. "We'll be camping there a week before!"

"Thanks Mam!" he shouted over his shoulder. He almost tore the parchment with his enthusiasm as he wrote the letter to Dean.

HPHPHP

_[content warning: misgendering, discussion of transitioning]_

"Wicked," Dean breathed when they arrived at the campsite.

Their campsite was with all the other Irish families, and each tent was more extravagant than the other. One tent was made entirely out of Irish flags. Another had smiling statues of the Irish Quidditch Team's players in front of their tent. Another looked like a giant grassy hill because it was so covered with clovers.

"Ministry wants us to act like Muggles," Ms. Finnigan said, "but I reckon this is nothin' like yer Muggle campgrounds, eh Dean?"

"Definitely not," Dean agreed.

"This is Ireland's time to shine," she continued. "I can feel it in me bones."

Ms. Finnigan glanced around quickly to see if the Muggle campground officials were around, then she whipped out her wand and set up their tent. The Finnigans' tent was a deep emerald green that shimmered with gold undertones.

"We're goin' to explore the camp, Mam," Shea said.

"Be safe, _asthore_ , and no magic," she replied.

"Can I pop a Bulgarian in the nose though?" Shea asked cheekily.

Ms. Finnigan laughed. "Only if nobody's lookin'!" She looked at Dean and winked. "My dear tomboy daughter. I do wish she'd dress a bit prettier, though."

"Mam!" Shea snapped, then tugged Dean away before Ms. Finnigan could say anything more.

They walked in silence for a little while. They'd never really talked about what Shea's life was like at home, and Shea could feel Dean's concern coming off of him in waves.

"Out with it," Shea said finally.

Dean shook his head. "I shouldn't."

"Come off it," Shea told him. "What're ye thinkin'?"

"I just wish she saw you for who you are," Dean replied after a moment. "I wish you could tell her."

"She still knows me," Shea said. "I'm meself at home, I'm just...a female me."

"It's not the same and you know it," Dean countered. "Otherwise you would've told her already."

Shea stiffened and stopped walking. Dean turned toward him and sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "This is why I didn't want to say anything. You don't have to tell her. You don't have to tell anybody."

Shea nodded, still not looking at him. Dean stepped forward, into Shea's bubble, and his world-awareness faded till only Dean was in focus. Dean reached forward and wrapped his long fingers around one of Shea's wrists the way he did at school whenever Shea started feeling lost.

"Dean, there's people," he mumbled.

"It's okay," Dean replied. "They probably just think we're a couple."

Shea started to laugh at that, and then his insides went cold. Shea wasn't wearing terribly feminine clothing—just loose-fitting jeans and a baggy green shirt—and his hair was very short now, but he still had feminine features. There was still something about him that screamed girlhood. Despite the world he'd formed at Hogwarts, where almost all of the professors and students knew him as _Mr._ Finnigan, he'd become used to people who didn't know him seeing him as a girl. But just then, he wondered. He wondered a terrible heartache of a thought, and pushed it away instantly.

The rest of the week passed by in a blur of campfires, Irish chants, and Quidditch debates. They spent one whole afternoon painting a huge banner supporting Ireland. Multiple people from the Ireland campsite walked by and complimented it, causing Dean to blush every time. More people arrived as the days passed, and they ran into more Hogwarts students.

And finally, the shock and joy from the finale of the game—Krum with the Snitch but Ireland with the win—was the happiest he'd ever been. But no matter what, he still couldn't shake off that Terrible Thought.

What if part of Dean still saw him as a girl?


	4. Chapter 4

Shea walked quickly through the corridors, trying to get back to Gryffindor Tower as quickly as possible. It was December, and the castle was drafty. He'd gone to the owlery to send a letter to his mam letting her know he was staying for the Yule Ball, as most of the school was doing.

"Hello?" a Durmstrang girl said as he walked. "You, boy! Excuse me?"

Shea stopped and turned slowly, the word _boy_ settling deep in his chest and making his heart beat faster.

"Yeah?" he said.

"I cannot find library," she said, walking up to him.

"Oh, yeah, it's on the second floor," he replied, pointing. "Go down this corridor to the main staircases, and ye can find the second floor from there."

" _Blagodarya_ ," she said. "Thank you."

Shea nodded, and they went their separate ways. His feet carried him faster than ever before, and he arrived at Gryffindor Tower in a frenzied fervor. Lavender was sitting in a corner of the common room and noticed him come in.

"Shea? You alright?" she asked.

He hurried over to her. "A Durmstrang girl just called me a boy," he said quickly. "She called me a _boy!_ "

Lavender's expression became amused, and her eyebrows pushed up. "Yeah, you _are_ a boy."

Her assertion was so simple and innocent, causing something in Shea to tighten and release, leaving him lighter than ever. Shea laughed and hugged her quickly, then he ran up the steps to the boys' dormitory. He went into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror.

He'd been recognized as a boy by a stranger.

A feeling of arrival came over him as this thought took root in his mind. A stranger had seen his short stature, thin nose, and pink lips…and recognized him as a boy. Shea felt as though he'd been given some sort of stamp of approval. He felt like he could really do this, like he really, finally, _truly_ belonged.

Shea impulsively turned and left the bathroom, hurtling down the stairs and into the common room.

"Lavender?" he said.

She looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"Would ye be me date?" he asked. "To the Yule Ball. D'ye wanna be me date?"

Her expression lit up like a Christmas tree. "Of course!" She jumped up out of her chair, the Charms book toppling to the floor. "Oh I'm so excited! I have to go tell Parvati!"

And without another word, she dashed off, and Shea was left standing there feeling just like every other normal boy with a date to the Yule Ball, and it felt amazing.

HPHPHP

That night, Shea sat in his bunk looking at the dress robes that his mother had sent for him. They were made of a light green material, with delicate silver embroidery along the hems. A family heirloom, her letter had said, passed down the maternal line of their family for generations.

They were beautiful.

He hated them.

Dean entered the dorm suddenly, and Shea shoved the dress robes out of sight under his pillow.

"Hey," Dean greeted as he walked over. "So, about the Yule Ball—"

"I asked Lavender," Shea blurted.

Dean blinked and stopped in his tracks. "What?"

"I asked Lavender to the Ball," Shea said. "As me date."

"Oh, oh, that's…wow!" Dean replied, sitting beside Shea on his bed. "That's really great, Shea."

Shea smiled. "Yeah, I think it'll be fun. She's a tad nutty, but her heart's in the right place."

Dean nodded slowly.

"Have ye asked anyone?" Shea asked.

"Um, no, I thought—No."

"Better get on it, mate," Shea replied. "All the good-lookin' girls'll be gone."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sure, sure."

He got off Shea's bed and went toward his trunk. Shea looked back toward his pillow and saw the fabric of his dress robes peeking out.

"Dean?"

"Hm?"

"I have a problem."

Dean closed his trunk and crossed over to Shea again. "What is it?"

Shea pulled the dress robes out from under his pillow. "I don't…I don't have anythin' to wear," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "Me mam, I couldn't…these're for girls, and I—" He swallowed hard. He'd fallen so fast from the high of being recognized as a boy that his head was spinning.

"You could trade with Ron," Dean suggested with a smile, nudging Shea with his shoulder.

Shea laughed shakily, remembering Ron's aghast face upon seeing the lace cuffs on his dress robes. "I think I'd rather wear this."

Dean laughed with him, and when they quieted he said, "We can go to the robes shop in Hogsmeade next weekend. Get you a new pair."

"I don't have enough money for new dress robes."

"I'll pitch in," Dean said. "It can be your Christmas present."

"Ye don't need to—"

"I want to," Dean replied firmly, placing his hands over Shea's to make him stop wringing the dress robes.

Shea's heart tightened suddenly, with gratitude, he thought, and he looked up at his best friend with wide, thankful eyes.

HPHPHP

_[content warning: misgendering]_

Shea knotted his fingers together as he and Dean approached Gladrags Wizardwear. His breath hitched in his chest when he saw the line of people outside the shop, all waiting to buy new dress robes.

"Let's go stand in line," Dean said, steering Shea over.

A pair of attendants were running around trying to take people's measurements with the magical tape in an attempt to get ahead of the rush, but it seemed like they kept forgetting whose measurements were whose, so it wasn't much help.

"Right, so a male and female pair of robes?" an attendant asked as she came up to them. "Matching, I presume? What's your color scheme?"

Shea's throat closed up immediately. He just wanted to leave. He knew this was a bad idea. Lavender would just have to go with someone else, and Shea would stay in the Tower—

"No, just a men's pair," Dean said.

"None for you, love?" the attendant asked, looking at Shea.

"The men's pair is for _him_ ," Dean told her, inclining his head at Shea. "I already have some."

The attendant straightened up, looking the pair of them over. Shea still couldn't speak, but he stuck his chin out and looked fiercely at her.

"Of course," she said after a moment. "Sorry about the misunderstanding. We'll be able to get you in sooner, then."

She moved on to the next people in line without taking Shea's measurements, but Shea didn't really care. His body relaxed slowly as she moved further down the line. He hadn't even realized that he'd tensed up that much.

"I'm sorry," Dean said.

"Don't be," Shea replied hoarsely.

"I shouldn't have talked over you," Dean continued. "We can leave if you want. It's just…it makes me so mad when people…" He sighed angrily.

Shea noticed that Dean's fists were clenched, so he stepped closer, facing him, and wrapped his fingers around Dean's wrist the way Dean did for him. Dean loosened his hands after a moment and huffed out a smile.

"Thank you for standing up for me," Shea said sincerely. "I'll be able to do it meself next time."

Dean nodded. "I know you will."


	5. Chapter 5

_[content warning: transphobic remark, internalized transphobia, miscommunication regarding transition]_

Shea occupied himself in the bathroom getting ready for the ball while the other boys changed by their beds. This was the arrangement that the boys had all silently agreed to for the past three and a half years. He fastened the silver buttons on his dress robes and then looked up at himself. His breath caught in his throat because he didn't recognize his reflection.

Shea looked like himself, and yet different. He'd tried gelling his hair to smooth the sides and spike the front, and it had worked fairly well. The robes were simple yet elegant: black with silver trim and fasteners, with black slacks and dress shoes. The physical stuff aside, wearing these clothes—clothes made for a man, made for _him_ as a man—caused him to stand straighter, to look sharper, to cast a more dominant air.

He really looked like a young man.

Satisfied, Shea pulled on the lapels of his robes and left the bathroom.

All four of the other boys stilled when they saw him. Neville smiled brightly, and Harry nodded in appraisal. Ron grimaced and then looked at the frayed ends of his robes, where he'd used a Severing Charm to cut the lace off. Dean's face looked astounded, and Shea felt himself blushing.

"Well, no contest, Shea looks the best of us," Neville said as he straightened his robes, which looked not only old-fashioned and out of style but also a little too tight on him. Shea assumed they used to be his father's, just like everything else Neville owned.

"That's not fair," Ron exclaimed. "He's not even—"

Ron's eyes widened as he caught himself. Dean turned slowly to face him with eyes like steel.

"He's not what?" Dean asked stiffly.

"Nothing," Ron grunted, shoulders hunching awkwardly. "Sorry." He picked at the stray strings on his sleeves, then headed for the staircase. Harry cast an apologetic look in Shea's direction and grabbed his wand off the bedside table, and then he and Neville followed Ron downstairs.

Dean approached Shea, and Shea felt his heartbeat quicken slightly. Dean's robes were made of a dark maroon color, complementing the undertones in his skin. They hugged his body, making him look even longer and leaner than normal.

"You do look really good," Dean said in a soft voice.

"So do ye." Shea smiled. "It's all thanks to ye, anyway," he cajoled, then stilled and looked up at Dean. "Really, Dean, I can't thank ye enough. Yer support and everythin…"

Dean nodded. "Of course."

Shea suddenly felt like there was something unsaid between them. He could feel it like an elephant on his chest, but he couldn't tell what it was.

"Anyway, let's get downstairs," Dean said. "Don't want to keep Lavender waiting."

Shea nodded and they headed for the doorway. "Who're ye going with? Ye never told me."

"Oh. Um, nobody," Dean said.

They descended down the stairs.

"Really?" Shea said. "I thought loads of girls'd've wanted ye to ask 'em."

"Some did, but…"

"But?"

"I told them I was waiting to hear from someone."

Shea cast a mischievous look at him. "Oh? Ye fancy someone?"

Dean frowned and looked away. "No, it's…" He stopped walking. "I wasn't sure if you were going to the ball as a guy or a girl. If you went as a girl, I figured _we_ would…"

"Go together," Shea finished as his stomach twisted up.

"Then you asked Lavender, so it was fine, but by then all the girls had dates, so…" He cleared his throat. "Here I am."

Shea's insides roiled uncomfortably as the Terrible Thought from the summer sprang back into his mind. "Ye…ye thought I'd go as a girl?"

"No, I—"

"Did ye _want_ me to go as a girl?" he asked. "As _Siobhan?_ "

Dean's eyes were wide. "No, I—I wasn't sure if you'd be comfortable…I just wanted to—"

"I didn't realize me being a boy was such a bother for ye," Shea continued.

Part of him knew he was being unfair. He knew Dean didn't really think these things, but he couldn't stop the storm of anxieties that was whirling around in his head as the Terrible Thought from the Quidditch Cup returned with a vengeance. His thoughts danced around his head, making him dizzy, turning his thoughts so fuzzy he couldn't think logically.

"Shea, please," Dean pleaded, stepping forward.

"Sorry I couldn't be yer built-in date," Shea snapped. "I'm the best of both worlds, eh? A mate or a date whenever you need."

Shea spun around on his heel. He couldn't bear to see the look of pain on Dean's face, couldn't stand knowing it was him who caused that look. He burst out of the door into the common room, startling the people who were milling about there.

"There you are!" Lavender called impatiently, skipping over to him. "Parvati and Harry already left."

"Sorry," Shea grunted, then glanced at her. She looked lovely. Her long hair had ribbons woven through it, and her robes were made of a shimmery silver fabric. "Ye look nice."

"I know," she replied, flipping a lock of hair over her shoulder. She giggled. "Let's—wait, where's Dean? Isn't he coming?"

Shea looked back at the door of the boys' staircase. It hadn't opened since he came out.

"I guess not," he said gruffly. "Let's go."

He steered her out through the portrait hole without a backward glance at the boys' staircase.

The Yule Ball was spectacular. The Great Hall had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Everything glittered like it was covered with frost and icicles. Small tables dotted the outskirts of the hall, leaving room for the band and the dance floor. Small lanterns provided dim light, and a perfect starry night was reflected in the ceiling above them.

Shea felt some people staring at them as he and Lavender headed toward a table. It suddenly felt like a bold statement, him arriving in men's dress robes with a girl as his date, and he briefly wondered if Dean had anticipated this. The school robes were gender neutral, but dress robes bore meaning to them. Some passing Slytherins scoffed quietly at him, and someone stepped on the back of his dress robes on purpose. Lavender didn't appear to notice anything, thankfully, but he felt his face burning as he took the seat next to Neville at a table.

Supper passed by without any incident, and then the dancing portion of the evening began as the four champions and their dates stepped out.

"D'you want to dance?" Lavender asked as more couples started joining the champions on the floor. Harry had looked ridiculous dancing with Parvati as she dragged him around, and Shea had wished Dean was there so they could laugh at him together.

"I guess."

She pulled on his arm, and they went out to the dance floor. The Weird Sisters were playing a strange song that was both fast and slow, and many of the couples weren't sure how to dance to it. Dumbledore was with Madam Maxime, and they were slowly waltzing around, taking up half the dance floor. Fred and Angelina, on the other hand, were a storm of limbs, causing everybody to steer clear of them.

Shea took Lavender's hand, and then she put her other hand on his shoulder, and he then realized he would have to lead her. Suddenly he had a lot more sympathy for Harry.

"Sorry, I've never done this before."

"Neither have I," she said with a laugh, but he knew she didn't quite understand what he meant.

Even though neither of them had danced at a ball before, they'd both grown up with the expectation that they'd be the one with the hand on the shoulder. The difference was that Shea didn't want to be the one with the hand on the shoulder but had never been prepared for anything else.

He lightly put his hand on her waist, and they started swaying back and forth.

"So why isn't Dean coming?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

Shea sighed. "We had a fight."

She stopped moving, her brown eyes wide. "What? You never fight!"

He rolled his eyes and gently pressed on her waist to get her dancing again. "Well there's a first time for everything."

"I suppose," she said. "What did you fight about?"

"I found out he was going to offer to be me date," Shea told her.

She giggled. "Two boys going together? I guess there really is a first time for everything."

"No," he said. "If I'd wanted to come to the dance as a girl, he'd be me date."

"Oh." She fell silent. "Why would you do that, though?"

"Exactly!" he exclaimed. "After all this time. Almost everybody calls me 'Shea' and 'he'. If I came to the dance wearin' girls' dress robes, all that would fall apart."

Lavender pursed her lips. "You said he was going to offer, right? Only _if_ you wanted to come as a girl?"

Shea nodded.

"Sounds like he was being a good friend, then," she said. "He probably just wanted to give you an option if you weren't comfortable. People _have_ been staring, you know."

Shea suddenly felt nauseous. First, he felt bad for underestimating Lavender. She had noticed the stares and the whispers, but had paid no mind to them and focused on Shea instead. Second, he'd been so unfair to Dean, taking all of his insecurities out on him without talking to him about it fairly. Lavender sensed this and immediately led them to a table.

"I yelled at him," Shea whispered. "I was awful, Lav."

"Then go back and apologize to him," she said.

He shook his head. "That's not fair to ye."

"I'll just hang out with Parvati," she replied, glancing over to the table where Parvati and Padma were grumpily sitting next to Harry and Ron. "It looks like she needs me to rescue her anyway."

"Are ye sure?" he asked.

She stood and pulled him up with her. "Absolutely."

"Thank ye, Lav." He hugged her tightly. "Ye're the best. And ye really do look amazing."

Lavender blushed. "Thanks, Shea. So do you." She looked him over. "Very handsome and manly."

He squeezed her hand and then spun around to leave the Great Hall, his heart beating heavily in his chest, weighed down by the thought of apologizing to Dean.

"Shea!"

He turned around, feeling somewhat annoyed and impatient to get back to the Tower. Surprise overtook the annoyance, though, as he saw Ron coming up to him, his mouth twisted in an uncomfortable expression.

"I'm sorry," Ron said once he got close. "For earlier. I slipped up. I didn't mean anything, and I was annoyed at these stupid robes"—He picked at the ends of the sleeves, which were even more frayed than they'd been in the dormitory—"and anyway I'm really sorry. I won't do it again. You're one of us."

"S'okay, Ron," Shea said, stunned. Ron looked at him earnestly, and Shea's heart warmed. He knew Ron could get a little pigheaded at times, but he really was a good and true friend. "Really," he insisted. "We're good, mate."

Ron looked visibly relieved. "Good. Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, 'm just tired," Shea lied. "You should go back though. There's plenty of girls to dance with."

Ron glanced back at the Hall, a disheartened look on his face. "None I want to, though," he mumbled.

Shea saw Ron's gaze land on Hermione and Krum, though, and thought that Ron wasn't being entirely truthful. Still, they waved goodbye to each other as Ron went back into the hall, and Shea headed toward Gryffindor Tower.

The dormitory was dark and silent when he stepped inside. The curtains around Dean's bed were pulled tight, so he was probably already sleeping. Shea could see Dean's discarded dress robes sticking out of his trunk. Shea's heart tightened with guilt. He went to his trunk and pulled out his pajamas, then crossed over to the bathroom to change.

He took one last look at himself in the mirror—one last look at Shea the Young Man—and then changed quickly, feeling he didn't deserve to look like that after having been so terrible to his friend. He stepped out into the dormitory and then heard Dean turn over in his bed. Shea smiled to himself. That meant Dean was only pretending; he never moved in his sleep.

"Dean?" he whispered, approaching the bed.

"Just go to bed."

"Please, I need to apologize," Shea said.

"Go _away_ , Shea."

Shea sat on the floor next to Dean's bed. "I was being a dick." He paused. "Guess I was makin' up for what I don't have, eh?"

Dean snorted in laughter, and Shea heard the blankets shuffle.

"Ye were just bein' a good friend. Lavender helped me see that. I don't know why I…" He sighed. "Actually I do know why. I…I'm scared," he mumbled. "I'm scared ye still see me as a girl."

There was a mighty pause, and then suddenly the curtains were ripped to the side. Dean's figure loomed above him in the darkness as he sat up in the bed.

"How could you think that?" Dean croaked, and Shea knew that he'd been crying.

Shea shook his head, feeling tears well up in his own eyes. "There's no real reason. Just stupid fear. Fear that ye see me as a girl, or that others do." He swallowed and whispered, "Or that I do."

Dean sighed and put his face in his hands.

"I lashed out and I shouldn't've."

"Yeah, you shouldn't have," Dean replied angrily. "How could you think I wanted you to go as a girl when I bought you your robes?"

"I know, I know!" Shea exclaimed. "Ye bought me men's robes, ye named me Shea, ye call me he, ye always stand up for me, ye—ye do everything for me."

Dean was silent. A few tears started to roll down Shea's cheeks, and he wiped them away. He felt hands under his arms, and suddenly he was lifted up onto Dean's bed. Dean pulled him into a hug, tucking Shea's head under his chin.

"You're my best friend, Shea," Dean whispered. "I know none of this is easy. I just want to support you. But you have to trust me."

Shea's hands crawled up Dean's back and curled into his nightshirt. "I do. I really do. You just...you just don't know what it's like for people to see you and not see you."

"I don't?" Dean's voice was cold, and Shea realized his mistake. Dean was a black man. He absolutely knew what it was like for people to make assumptions about you based on your appearance, without knowing anything about you. Shea's heart hurt. This world could be so cruel.

"Sorry," Shea whispered.

Dean nodded and continued holding him. Moments passed, and Shea could feel the something strange between them from earlier start to slip away. It was still there, but less present. Dean, still holding him, shifted so they were laying down together.

"I'm sorry I made you feel like I don't see you for who you are," Dean murmured. "I never want to do that again."

"I'm sorry too," he said again.

"I know," Dean replied.

Shea figured that was about all the forgiveness he deserved at the moment, so he didn't push the issue. Exhaustion began to creep in as the adrenaline and the guilt seeped away. His mind started to drift toward sleep. Suddenly there was shouting downstairs, and it jolted him awake again. Realizing he was too sleepy to keep laying there, he started to pull away from Dean to go back to his own bed, but Dean's arms tightened around him.

"You can stay here," Dean whispered.

"Kay," Shea whispered back, and turned to pull the curtains around the bed again.

His face heated as he curled into Dean's chest and Dean wrapped around him. As they slipped off into sleep, Shea was sure he'd never felt safer in his life.


	6. Chapter 6

_[content warning: transphobic behavior, deadnaming, misgendering]_

Hogwarts was different. It was subtle, like an odd smell in the air, but Shea could sense it. Something just felt wrong.

After the events of last year, he supposed it was no surprise that the school would be different. None of them would ever be the same. Cedric Diggory being killed in the Tournament, Harry Potter and Dumbledore spouting off that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back…

His mam almost didn't let him come back at all, but he'd fought her hard on that. Hogwarts was home. It was the one place he could be himself. He refused to give that up. He refused to give _Dean_ up.

Yet, despite all his fighting to stay at Hogwarts, it wasn't the home he'd grown up to know. It was different.

"Finnigan, Siobhan!" Umbridge called as she took roll in their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Shea shivered like a ghost had swept over him. He felt the eyes of his classmates on him as he raised his hand slowly into the air.

"Gran—Yes, Miss Finnigan?" Umbridge's large, dark eyes narrowed as she spotted Shea's hand lingering in the air.

Shea saw Dean clench his fists out the corner of his eye and swallowed, finding his resolve.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I go by Shea," he said, "not Siobhan."

She blinked, then smiled sweetly. "Alright, Miss Fin—"

"And, er." He swallowed. "It's _Mister_ Finnigan, ma'am."

Umbridge walked slowly between the desks as she approached him. Her eyes swept over him calculatingly. His cheeks heated, and he suddenly felt conscious of every aspect of his appearance that was remotely feminine.

"I wasn't aware that Máirín Finnigan had a son," Umbridge said. "In her letter to me, she only expressed concern for the safety of her _daughter_ Siobhan."

Shea's tongue felt thick in his mouth. Dean pressed his leg to Shea's under the table, trying to offer support, but Shea still felt like he was adrift at sea.

"Me mam wrote ye?" he asked softly.

Umbridge nodded. "Yes, Miss Finnigan, she did. She was concerned about the way Albus Dumbledore has been running the school as of late, and I assured her that I would see to it that all students, including her Siobhan, would be safe under my watch." She peered at him. "Would you like me to write her back and explain that I'll be keeping her son safe, not her daughter?"

"No, no," Shea said hurriedly. "That's not…not necessary."

Umbridge reached out and patted Shea's head, then continued with roll, calling out Hermione's name.

Dean leaned in close, whispering words of comfort, but Shea couldn't hear anything over the buzzing in his ears.

His classmates—with the exception of Harry, who'd been sent to McGonagall's office not even five minutes into the lesson—swarmed him as soon as they'd gone far enough away from the classroom, their voices overlapping in cacophony.

"I'm so sorry, Shea."

"She's completely horrid."

"I could curse her for you."

"Ron, no, that—"

"How could she treat you like that?!"

"You ought to go to Dumbledore and McGonagall straight away, they'll—"

"Give him some space!" Dean said, breaking into the circle of Gryffindors to wrap his fingers around Shea's wrist.

With Dean there, Shea felt like he could try to breathe again. The others stared at him with varying expressions of concern.

"I'm not going to Dumbledore," Shea said.

Hermione opened her mouth, but Shea cut across her.

"No, I won't, and neither should any of you," Shea said fiercely. "There's nothing to stop her from sending a letter to me mam. Just let it be."

They watched him in silence. Neville and Parvati had concerned looks on their faces. Hermione looked unsettled but resigned. Ron's lips were a thin line reminiscent of Professor McGonagall. Lavender's cheeks were splotchy red with fury and she looked close to tears. He gave them all a small smile.

"Thank ye, though, for yer support," Shea said. "That means more than anything Dumbledore or McGonagall could do."

HPHPHP

_[content warning: mention of deadnaming and misgendering, transphobic language, bullying, rape jokes, body dysphoria, internalized transphobia, panic attack]_

Umbridge's class quickly became his least favorite. It was everybody's least favorite, of course, but Umbridge constantly called him _Siobhan_ and _Miss_ and _she_. It never got any more dreadful than that, and Umbridge hadn't brought up writing his mother again since the first day, but each day drained him a little bit more.

Worse than that, though, was that her treatment of him had begun to spread somehow. The Slytherins began outwardly taunting him instead of just whispering as he passed. Some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs began giving him sideways looks. There was even a handful of Gryffindors who left the common room when he entered. It was as if Umbridge was being an example for them, setting a new precedent, essentially giving them permission to bully him.

Dean fumed every time, but Shea managed to keep him in check by reminding him that fighting them would only bring Shea more attention.

"She's the worst," Dean said. "An awful teacher and an awful human."

"Are we sure she's even human though?" Shea said. "She looks like a toad Transfiguration gone wrong."

Dean laughed hard at that and leaned back against him. They were sitting on Dean's bed, trying to do their Defense Against the Dark Arts homework, but it had quickly devolved into Dean doodling in his textbook and Shea trying to land wadded up pieces of parchment into the wastepaper basket across the room. Only one in five made it in, showing how off he was.

"Let's go to supper, 'm starving," Shea complained.

Dean looked at his watch. "It's a bit early and we need to finish this."

"Please," Shea whined. His stomach really was cramping pretty badly and had been all day.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine."

Shea jumped up off the bed and tossed his things on his bed, waiting for Dean to put his things away in his meticulously neat trunk. Together, they left Gryffindor Tower and began the descent down to the Great Hall. Dean laughed as Shea began jumping down the steps, skipping as he went.

"You're going to hurt yourself," Dean said.

"Nah," Shea replied, looking back over his shoulder at Dean. As he landed, his robe got caught under his foot and tore as he straightened up.

"Told you," Dean teased.

Shea inspected the massive rip along the bottom hem of his robes. "No ye didn't. I didn't hurt meself, just me robes." He looked up at Dean and grinned. "Ye go on, I'll change and meet ye down there."

Dean hesitated, but nodded. "See you soon."

Shea turned and took the stairs two at a time. He smiled when he heard Dean's laughter following him up the stairs. He'd do anything to hear Dean's laugh.

As he went, he was so intent on getting to Gryffindor Tower that he didn't notice a group of sixth year Slytherins emerging from the fourth floor corridor. One of the boys stuck his foot out, and Shea went flying, banging his chin on the stone floor when he landed.

"Oh look, it's the he-she!" the taller girl exclaimed.

Shea grunted as he started to get up. His hands smarted, and his knees ached. He tasted blood in his mouth; he must have bitten his tongue upon landing. A foot pressed into his back and shoved him back down to the floor.

"Do you think it sleeps in the boys' dorms?" someone said above him.

The pressure on his back grew as the person leaned down. He heard a gruff voice in his ear.

"A girl in the boys' dorms," the boy growled. "Wonder if they all crawl in her bed every night?"

Tears smarted in Shea's eyes as he yelled in pain and frustration.

"I bet they keep it in a cage in the common room," a girl said. "Like a freaky little pet."

Shea cried out again. They were on the grand staircase and it was almost suppertime, there had to be somebody—

"What is going on here?" an oily voice asked.

His heart sunk as the foot lifted off his back and he scrambled to his feet, coming face-to-face with Snape's hooked nose.

"Finnigan here fell over," the boy who'd been standing on Shea said. "We were just helpin' her up."

"How good of you," Snape said. The two girls exchanged nasty smiles and the boys grinned at their head of house. Snape turned to Shea. "Won't you thank them for their help, Miss…" Snape's lip curled, "… _ter_ Finnigan?"

Shea's face burned as he glared at them. "Thanks. For nothing."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for ingratitude," Snape said, then caught sight of the rip in Shea's robe. "And another ten for your slovenly appearance. Go change before supper."

Shea turned without another word, the Slytherins giggling behind them. Tears rose in his eyes, but he blinked them away. As he walked, his body ached from falling and being stepped on, but something else also felt wrong. His lower stomach hurt, almost burned, and he knew this wasn't hunger pain. He hurried the rest of the way to Gryffindor Tower, wondering if perhaps he was contracting a stomach bug or if he'd had something bad for breakfast.

Thankful that none of his dormmates were there, he went straight into the bathroom and sat down on a toilet, then stared in shock and horror at the small red stain in his underwear.

He was almost fifteen years old. It had taken so long to happen that he'd begun to hope it never would, that the universe would realize it made a mistake. But here it was, nature's proof of the body he'd been born into. He felt like the whole world was telling him, _You're a woman, you're a woman, you're a woman, and you can't hide from it, and there's nothing you can_ —

Shea scrambled off the toilet and leaned over quickly to spill the contents of his stomach into it.

Wiping his mouth, Shea grabbed a wad of toilet paper and put it between his legs, then pulled his pants up and shuffled out to his trunk, where he dug for the charmed underwear his mam had packed him with ever since his second year. He found it buried under the more feminine clothes she also sent with him, and the package practically burned in his hand.

Shea grabbed new clothes and threw his torn robe in his laundry hamper for the house elves to collect. As he changed, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His hair was getting a bit long, starting to curl around his ears. His sports bra suddenly felt too tight and itchy. The new charmed underwear had a pattern of tiny hearts across them, and he felt as if they were mocking him.

He'd never hated his appearance so much, never wanted to break the mirror as much as he did right then.

It was easier when he was younger, when all kids were short with awkward bodies, not sure what to do with themselves. It was different now that he was older. His body was starting to grow to fit the shape it was supposed to. There was the feminine curve to his waist, his small breasts, his slender figure, and, of course, what was happening inside him at that very moment. He felt he wanted to rip his skin off, to crawl right out of this body he'd been put into and find another one.

Shea approached the sink, and his shaking hands gripped the sides of the basin. He stared directly into the reflection of his blue eyes, framed by those long lashes, and screamed.

He watched his face contort with the force of his scream, the skin stretching downward as he opened his mouth wide. He screamed until he absolutely needed to breathe, and then he screamed again. He screamed as the tears rolled down his blotchy cheeks. He screamed at the universe, at Umbridge, at the Slytherins and Snape and even his mother. He screamed until he was shaking too hard to remain standing, and he collapsed to his knees on the cold stone floor.

Shea curled over himself, pressing his face into his hands, and sobbed.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that. He cried until exhaustion and apathy settled over him like a heavy blanket, making it hard for him to get up and get dressed. He figured he was too late for supper, and he wasn't sure he would be able to eat anyway. His stomach was still churning with anxiety and rage.

Moving slowly, robotically, he took his soiled garments and balled them up, then he opened the bathroom door and saw Dean sitting on his bed with an ashen, terrified expression on his face. Shea felt nauseous once again as he tore his eyes away from Dean and threw the clothing in the hamper.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked in a whisper, like if he spoke too loudly Shea would shatter apart. "I waited and waited, and I was worried when you didn't come down. I came up here and, and you were screaming, and—"

Shea winced. So he'd heard a lot of it, then.

"I didn't know what to do, so I just decided to wait here," he finished.

"Did the others hear?" Shea asked. His voice was weak and croaky.

Dean shook his head. "They're still at supper." He checked his watch. "They should be back any minute, though."

Shea nodded slowly and moved toward the dormitory door.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked again.

Shea paused. "It's nothing ye can help me with," he said honestly. "I'm sorry."

Dean watched him go with the most pained look on his face, but there truly wasn't anything he could do to help. Shea needed to talk to Hermione and Lavender and Parvati. He needed to talk to people who understood, at least partially.

The common room was filling with people coming back from supper, and he looked over the crowd for the girls, but he couldn't see them. He glanced at the girls' staircase and approached it slowly. It seemed to take more steps than usual to reach the door, like the floor kept stretching longer as he came closer, but eventually he wrapped his hand around the knob and pulled. Then he took a couple bracing steps up the staircase.

For a second, he thought they would remain stairs. He thought the stairs could sense what was happening to his body, and that they wouldn't recognize him as a boy anymore, but as he took another step they smoothed into a slide, and he hit the floor for the second time that day.

"Oh, come on!" a girl exclaimed as she came sliding down and almost landed on top of him.

The girls that were still lingering in the common room groaned loudly and began taking spots on the chairs and couches to wait out the stair-slide. Some of them simply left. Shea scooted away from the doorway, but couldn't bring himself to move much more than that. The universe was giving him mixed signals— _boy girl boy girl_ —and he couldn't begin to make sense of any of it.

"Shea?"

He looked up from where he sat hugging his knees and saw Lavender, Parvati, and Hermione approaching. They'd just entered from the portrait hole.

"Is something wrong?" Parvati asked.

He nodded, and they pulled him up and out of the common room. Lavender and Parvati put his arms over their shoulders as they walked along the corridor, and Hermione ran ahead to find an open classroom. Once they found one, they sat on the floor in a circle and looked at him expectantly.

Shea shook slightly, shivering from cold or exhaustion or both, as he searched for his voice. The girls waited patiently and silently, all rubbing or patting him soothingly.

"I-It happened," he said finally, his voice deadened and hoarse. "I'm officially a woman."

Realization dawned on all of their faces, and Lavender pulled him close to her. Parvati scooted closer and hugged him from the other side. Hermione came up and hugged his legs, resting her cheek on his knees.

"We love you, Shea," Lavender whispered. "We love you just as you are."

Hermione and Parvati murmured their agreement.

Shea didn't love himself at that moment, but it was nice to know that some people did. That helped a bit.


	7. Chapter 7

Shea woke up the next morning feeling heavy, like he'd been filled with lead. As he pulled himself out of bed, he felt sluggish and achy. His eyes itched from crying so much, and his brain was foggy. He crossed the floor to get to the bathroom, and was pleased to see that the vanishing spell on the underwear was still working fine. The girls had given him advice, such as getting new pairs every few months and going to Madam Pomfrey for a potion that would relieve cramps. Now, with the morning light streaming through the bathroom window, he felt slightly better about this new development. It was just another thing he would have to deal with. He still didn't like it though.

He finished up and went to the sink to wash his hands, and dared look at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, and he looked a little skeletal. His skin was sallow and pallid. There would be plenty of questions today, especially since he'd missed supper last night.

Wiping his hands on the towel, he departed the bathroom and saw Neville getting up.

"Hey, Shea," he greeted with his usual morning cheer. "You feeling better today?"

Shea's heart seized, and his eyes shot to Dean's bed. What did he tell them?

Neville saw his confusion. "Dean said you had a bad bug last night."

"Oh," Shea said, his chest slowly unconstricting. "Yeah. Took Pomfrey a bit to figure out the right potion. Still feeling a bit dodgy."

"Get well soon," Neville said. "Let me know if you need anything."

Shea smiled and decided that Neville was an underrated friend. Sure, the lad spent more time around plants than people, but he was a genuine person.

He gathered his clothes for the day and headed back to the bathroom. His eyes caught sight of his laundry hamper and saw that it was empty. All evidence of yesterday's disaster—gone. The house elves were underrated too, he decided.

When he emerged from the bathroom, all the other boys were up and dressed. Dean smiled cautiously as Shea approached his trunk to put away his pajamas.

"Morning," Shea greeted bracingly.

"Morning," Dean replied, then looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. "Talk later?"

Shea's heart was in his throat again, but he nodded sharply.

HPHPHP

Shea knew that he'd said yes to talking to Dean, but the truth was that he had no idea how to go about it. He could tell Dean about Snape and the Slytherin bullies, but he'd go ballistic, and it didn't completely explain his absence. And the thought of discussing his _menarche_ with his bloke best friend was simply a nightmare. Plus, the Terrible Thought had pushed its way back into his mind. He feared that having this girl-thing happening to him would codify him as a girl in Dean's mind, and he couldn't handle that, especially after dealing with that anxiety last year.

He kept his head down more than usual in classes that day: barely speaking, not raising his hand, and not making eye contact with the teachers. McGonagall even approached him at lunch and asked if anything was wrong.

"Nothing, ma'am," he said, "just tired today."

"Yes, well, even though this is your O.W.L. year I don't want my students sacrificing health for grades," she said, casting a look over all the Gryffindor fifth years. "A healthy balance is necessary for success."

They all nodded, Hermione more fervently than the rest, though she had the least healthy balance of all of them.

"As if!" Lavender hissed once she'd walked away. "She just assigned us three feet on Switching Spells!"

They all laughed, and for a second Shea started to feel like life could return to normal. Then he saw Umbridge glaring at them from the staff table, and he doubted that it ever would.

HPHPHP

"Are you avoiding me?"

Shea looked up to find Dean standing before him, illuminated from behind by the common room fireplace.

It wasn't that he was avoiding Dean, it was just that for the past few days he kept placing himself in crowded areas that weren't suited for private conversations. He really _, really_ didn't want to talk about that day. He just wanted to move on.

"No," Shea said.

"I thought we were meeting in the library today," Dean said.

Okay, maybe he actually was avoiding Dean.

"I'm sorry, mate," Shea replied sincerely, putting his textbook aside.

"Do you not want to talk about that day?" Dean asked quietly. He pulled the closest chair over and sat in front of him.

Of course Dean would know what this was about. Dean always knew what was going on with him, even when Shea didn't even know.

"It's not because I don't trust ye," Shea said. "It's that…" He sighed.

"You can't explain," Dean finished. "You can't explain because I won't understand?"

Shea nodded.

"I can try to understand," Dean persisted.

"I know," Shea said softly, and he was filled with so much affection for Dean in that moment. "I know ye'll try, but I also know ye'll want to fix it, and there's just no way. It's just something I have to deal with."

Dean processed this for a few moments. "But it was a bad day?"

Shea nodded. "A really, really bad day."

Dean leaned forward and put a hand on Shea's knee, and Shea's stomach erupted in butterflies for some inexplicable reason. "Then that's all I need to understand. I'm here for you. I always am. Whatever you need."

"Just be me friend," Shea replied. "That's enough for now."

"Already done."


	8. Chapter 8

_[content warning: misgendering, transphobia, bullying]_

At first, Shea was determined to keep his head down for the rest of the year. He didn't join Harry's secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group, he didn't stand up to Umbridge, and he didn't report any of his tormentors. It felt a lot like lying down and giving in—which it really was, he supposed—but he didn't know how else he was supposed to survive this in one piece.

Dean was there for him in every possible way, with fierce words and clenched fists or soft words and kind eyes, depending on what Shea needed. Half the time he didn't even need to tell Dean what he needed. They often didn't need words to communicate. They tended to just understand each other.

Every time Shea saw Dean fight for him, it made Shea wish that he could be braver, be more like Dean. He remembered first year Dean, who was quiet and timid and didn't like speaking in front of others. Now he looked at fifth year Dean, who fought against injustice without a second thought. It made Shea wonder how he's changed in the past five years, and he was sorry to say that, upon reflection, he hadn't done a lot of growing into a better person the way Dean had.

Shea was still scared, still hiding, still allowing others to fight for him. It made him feel ashamed.

There was a bout of cajoling laughter ahead of him, and he saw Draco and the rest of the so-called Inquisitorial Squad patrolling the corridor ahead. It looked like they were tormenting some first year Ravenclaws by levitating their textbooks above their heads.

"Hey leave them alone!" Shea exclaimed before he knew what he was doing.

The textbooks dropped to the floor as the Inquisitorial Squad turned to face him with malicious grins on their faces. The two Ravenclaws scrambled to grab their things and scurry away as quickly as possible.

"Twenty points from Ravenclaw for incessant snivelling!" Pansy shouted after them.

"What do we have here?" Draco asked as he approached Shea, the rest of the group following behind him.

"Quit picking on first years, ye bloody coward," Shea snapped.

"What are you going to do about it? You're just a _girl_ ," Draco sneered.

Pansy cleared her throat, and Millicent narrowed her eyes at him. He glanced at them for half a second, losing ground, then returned to glaring at Shea.

"If ye're so tough why don't ye pick on someone yer own size," Shea snapped.

Draco gazed over him scathingly. "What, like you? Are you sure your father wasn't a leprechaun?"

Crabbe, Goyle, and Warrington chuckled behind him, which gave Draco more arrogance and confidence.

"I hear your father's a dirty Muggle," he continued, "but I must say even a Muggle father would be better than a leprechaun. Your poor mother must be so ashamed of you."

"Shut up about me mam," Shea snapped.

"Oh wait, there's another reason you're a complete embarrassment, isn't there?" Draco pressed on. "What is it, Crabbe?"

Crabbe looked so surprised at being addressed that he opened and closed his mouth like a fish, which completely shattered the air of toughness around the group. Shea snorted with laughter, and Draco whipped around to shout at him when Pansy interrupted.

" _It_ thinks it's a boy," she sneered.

Shea whipped his wand out, not caring at that moment that it was six against one.

"Careful, your _boyfriend_ isn't here to defend you this time," Draco taunted as they all pulled their wands out. "One toe out of line, Finnigan, and I'll have Umbridge write your mum."

Shea's fist tightened around his wand. They shouldn't get away with the things they were doing to the other students, let alone the things they were saying about him. The Slytherins were so high and mighty these days, walking around like they owned everything and everyone. Somebody needed to put them in their place. Somebody needed…

He deflated slightly. If he fought them, they'd definitely write his mam. If he ever wanted his mother to find out about him, that was definitely not the way.

"Piss off," Shea hissed, then pocketed his wand and turned away from them.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for a bad attitude," Draco shouted. "And fifteen more for being a stain on this school!"

Shea fumed the entire way back up to the dormitory. In the common room Lavender waved him over, but he wasn't in the mood to socialize. He stormed up the boys' stairs and found Dean studying on his bed.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, looking up from his textbook.

"Can I come to yer next meeting?" Shea asked. "Harry's defense group. I want to join."

"Really? That's great!" Dean sat up and Shea joined him on the bed. "What changed your mind?"

Shea shrugged. "The Quibbler article. Guess Harry's not much of a nutter after all," he lied.

Dean rolled his eyes and gave him a look. Shea sighed. While he did have a spat with Harry, and he didn't want to believe that Voldemort was back, Dean was as astute as ever.

"And…'m tired of being scared to fight back," Shea said. "I want to fight back."

Dean smiled. "Well, you're in luck. We have a meeting in two weeks."

"I'll be there," Shea told him with a firm nod of his head.

"I'm glad."

They gazed softly at each other, and Shea felt a familiar calm spread over him. He noticed a doodle in the corner of the page Dean had been studying. There was a half-finished sketch of a particularly ugly frog with a huge pink bow.

"Like it?" Dean asked as he laid back down on his stomach.

"Love it," Shea replied, leaning against him. "Be better if that frog was squished under me boot, though."

"That's gonna be the next page," Dean said. "Like a flipbook."

"What's a flipbook?" Shea asked, lowering himself to the bed and folding his arms across Dean's back.

As Dean started to explain Muggle flipbooks, Shea laid his head on his arms and closed his eyes. He could feel the vibrations of Dean's baritone voice and the movements of his muscles as he kept sketching. Shea's chest swelled with some foreign emotion as he allowed himself to fully relax the way he was only able to around Dean.

HPHPHP

Shea stepped out into the sunshine after finally completing his final O.W.L., History of Magic. He couldn't believe that the last two weeks of hell were finally over. It was hard to feel jovial, though, what with McGonagall in St. Mungo's and Hagrid and Dumbledore on the run. Still, the sun was streaming through the clouds, and he could almost pretend that Umbridge wasn't ruining all of their lives one day at a time.

Although his first and only Dumbledore's Army meeting had been a complete disaster, his desire to keep fighting hadn't been extinguished. He just had to find different ways to fight. And doing well in his exams and continuing on to change the wizarding world after graduation was one way to do it.

Shea went down to the lake's edge and found some students splashing in the water. Dean said he'd meet him out here when he was done with the exam. He slouched under a tree and spread himself out on the grass, enjoying the calm of the moment. He'd begun to doze off when he heard someone next to him. Instinctively, he whipped his wand out and sat straight up, but saw only Dean's bewildered eyes.

"Sorry," Shea said, putting his wand away. "I thought the Inquisitorial Squad was sneakin' up on me."

"Nah, only me," Dean said with a grin. He sat down next to Shea and set his bag down, pulling out a large sketch pad and some pencils.

"Ye haven't drawn in a few months," Shea pointed out.

"Been too busy studying," Dean replied. "It killed my artistic spirit."

"Well if ye need some inspiration, ye could always draw me fighting a dragon," Shea suggested.

"If I were to draw anybody fighting a dragon, it'd be Harry."

"Why not me?"

"He's actually done it."

"He didn't fight it, just flew around it," Shea pouted. "Y'know, I think he gets more credit for that than he deserves."

Dean snorted with laughter and drew a few sharp lines across the page that looked like the beginning of a dragon's wing.

Lavender, Parvati, and Neville soon joined them, stretching out in the dappled shade provided by the tree.

"I can't believe they saved the most boring exam for last," Lavender complained as Parvati plaited her long, blonde hair. "It's like they wipe our brains out with everything else and then expect us to remember random dates and names."

"Can we not talk about the exams?" Neville asked timidly, brushing his hands over the grass they were sitting on.

"Oh come on, you know you aced the Herbology exam, and that's the only one you really care about," Parvati said.

Neville blushed and said nothing more. They all knew that Neville had a lot of pressure from his grandmother to do well in the other exams, but Herbology was clearly his passion, and they were all glad that he'd finally found something he excelled at.

Lavender began prattling on about her summer plans with her parents, and Shea looked out around them at their classmates. All the fifth years were going crazy with their newfound freedom, enjoying the sunshine for the first time that spring. Some students were even trying to play with the giant squid, which was sunbathing in the shallows.

It was moments like this with Dean and his friends when Shea felt like he could start to forget about all the bad things that were happening around him. Fifth year had got him thinking about the future, since he'd had to deal with career consultations and O.W.L.'s, and him and Dean hadn't really talked much about what they wanted to do after Hogwarts.

Shea didn't have any particular skills or career paths that he was interested in, and it was giving him a bit of anxiety. And the thought of being Shea, not Siobhan, in the real world outside of Hogwarts was something he'd have to deal with eventually as well. But lately he'd been thinking that everything would be okay as long as he stuck with Dean. Maybe they'd get a flat together in Dublin or London or somewhere else altogether. It didn't matter as long as he'd be with Dean.

He flopped back down to the grass and threw his legs over Dean's, and he felt Dean rest the sketchbook against his knees. It was peaceful like this: the air crisp and full of the conversations of his friends and the sounds of people playing in the lake and the _scritch_ es of Dean's art pencils on paper. Deep in his chest, a small warm feeling bloomed, and he thought that this was what he wanted his life to be like.


	9. Chapter 9

This was not what Shea wanted his life to be like.

"I can't believe it," Shea grumbled at breakfast. "Snape—Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I'd rather have Umbridge back."

His friends chuckled lightly, but they weren't really engaged in the conversation he was trying to have.

"I'm thinking Harry's right," he continued. "There's just no way Dumbledore would give him the position after avoiding it so long. Snape probably cursed him, or cursed all the other applicants."

He waited for somebody to jump in and offer their own thoughts, but there was only silence. Annoyance flared through him.

"Dean, what—" Shea started, but Dean was focused on Ginny. He was laughing at something she'd said, and Shea quickly realized that Dean hadn't been listening at all.

His insides twisted as he turned away and tried to get Lavender's attention.

"Lav, what d'ye reckon about—"

"Ron's really cute," she said suddenly.

He almost dropped his fork. " _What?_ "

"Ron," she repeated, her brown eyes fixed on where the Weasley boy sat further down the table. "He's _really_ cute. I've never noticed before. When did he get so tall?"

"Dunno," Shea said. "Anyway, Lav—"

But she didn't look at him. Shea turned and looked at Parvati, who was staring blank-faced at her food. Neville hadn't come down to breakfast with them, and suddenly Shea realized he had nobody to talk to. He turned once more to Dean, but was struck by the adoration in Dean's eyes as he watched Ginny. Something dark and violent rose in Shea's chest, and he had the urge to throw his oatmeal in Ginny's face.

He resisted.

Barely.

This was definitely not what he wanted his life to be like.

HPHPHP

Over the next few weeks, Shea found himself alone in the dorm more often than he had in the last six years combined. With Dean dating Ginny, and Lavender now dating Ron, his two best friends were too preoccupied to spend any time with him.

He sighed and threw himself off the bed. He was tired of laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, and he figured he should at least go to the library or something and try to get some homework done since he wasn't doing anything else.

As he entered the common room—which was mostly deserted because most people were playing out in the fresh November snow—he saw that Parvati was alone there.

"Hey, Par," he greeted.

"Oh hello," she said.

"Lavender out with Ron?" he asked.

"Yeah. Dean out with Ginny?"

Shea nodded. "Mind if I join ye?"

"Sure."

Shea set his books down and looked over at her, and he realized that he and Parvati weren't really that close. They were friends, of course, and she'd been so supportive of him over the past six years, but they'd never hung out just the two of them.

He figured now was as good a time as any for that to change.

A few hours later, Dean and Ginny came stumbling into the common room laughing and covered in snow. Dean looked over at him and waved, and then him and Ginny went up the boys' stairs, giggling as they went. Shea stared at the closed door, feeling something awful churning in his stomach.

Parvati reached across the table and squeezed his wrist and smiled.

"Thanks, Par."

"Sure, Shea."

HPHPHP

"So what's this thing again?" Shea asked, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched Dean put on his dress shoes.

"Slughorn's Christmas Party," Dean said. "Ginny's bringing me as her date."

"For that Sluggy Club, yeah?"

"Yeah." Dean looked at him. "Ginny hates it."

Ginny may hate it, but Shea loved that Ginny was in the Slug Club. It meant that he got Dean to himself every now and then, which was just about the only time they hung out lately—especially now that Dean had replaced Katie on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.

"Oh yeah?" Shea said.

"She says it's just Slughorn trying to predict who'll be famous so he can get favors from them in the future."

Shea raised his eyebrows. "Why does she keep going?"

"It's hard to say no to that guy. Plus it's her O.W.L. year, so she figures it's beneficial to be in a professor's good graces," he continued.

"Makes sense," Shea said. "Sounds right miserable though."

"She says it's not too bad as long as Harry's there." Dean's voice went a bit funny. "She says he's the best part of it."

Shea's eyes narrowed. Dean's face was aimed at the floor, but Shea could see the tension set in his shoulders. He knew why Dean was concerned; everyone knew Ginny'd had a crush on Harry for years, and Harry seemed somewhat less-than-platonic towards her lately. Not that Ginny had noticed, of course.

"Dean—"

"But Harry's been scheduling Quidditch practices at the same time as the meetings, so she hasn't had to deal with them lately," Dean said quickly, looking up and smiling. He finished with his shoes and stood up. "My mum was absolutely bonkers about sending my dress robes to me. It took her years to get used to tying letters to owls, but she drew the line at letting them take a package. My dad had to do it."

Shea laughed obligingly, but he knew that Dean was still feeling insecure about Harry despite the abrupt subject change.

"Alright," Dean said, straightening his dress robes. "How do I look?"

It had been a couple years since Shea had seen Dean in his dress robes. He'd expected the robes to look a little shorter since Dean had grown several inches since fourth year, but they seemed to fit him just fine. He wondered if Dean had somehow charmed them longer.

Regardless, the maroon robes looked better on him now than they had two years ago. He looked adult and grown-up, and more handsome than ever. There was something about the tilt of his chin, the glimmer in his eyes, or even the curve of his torso that made Shea's stomach twist with nerves and his heart beat faster.

"Shea?" Dean peered at him.

He blinked and looked up at Dean's face. "Um, yeah—good." He swallowed heavily. "Good."

Dean smiled at him and grabbed his wand off the bed.

"I'll walk ye down," Shea said.

They walked downstairs in amiable silence and found Ginny waiting in the common room. She walked right over and tugged Dean down for a quick kiss. Shea looked down and stepped away quickly as a monster roared in his chest.

"Ready?" Ginny asked him.

"Yeah," Dean said, then smiled at Shea. "See you later."

"Sure," Shea said, then collapsed into an armchair.

Once they left, the common room was deserted, and Shea stared despondently into the fire. The licks of flames reminded him of Ginny's crimson hair. He thought of it tangled between Dean's fingers, and he suddenly wanted to break something.

Shea sighed with frustration and went back up to the dormitory. He figured he might as well go to bed early rather than obsess over Dean and Ginny. He'd just finished changing when the dormitory door pushed slowly open. He turned, expecting to see Neville or even Ron, but instead he saw Parvati.

"Could I come in?" she asked.

"Sure, come on." He sat on his bed and gestured for her to join him.

They'd been studying together on a regular basis since that first night, and he found she was actually a good study partner, but she didn't have her books with her tonight.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Hermione's at the party, and Lavender and Ron snuck out of the tower, and I didn't feel like being alone," she replied.

"I understand."

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Parvati slapped her hands down on the bed and let out a shout of frustration.

"I just don't understand it!" she yelled.

"What?"

"Lavender dating Ron," she replied. "It makes her miserable. She's constantly fretting and worrying over him, and it's driving me bonkers! Also Hermione's stopped speaking to both of us, even though none of this is my fault, so it makes everything in the dorm awkward and awful."

Shea blew out his breath. "I had no idea. I'm sorry."

Parvati grabbed his pillow and hugged it to her chest. "And Ron's clearly still into Hermione. He's just using Lavender to get back at Hermione and to have someone to snog. It makes me sick."

"Get back at Hermione?"

"Fourth year. Krum."

"Ah."

He reached out and rubbed her arm comfortingly. Hearing Parvati complain about Ron and Lavender's relationship made him think about his feelings about Dean and Ginny.

"Dean's insecure about Harry," Shea said. "I think Dean knows that Ginny's always going to have a crush on 'im."

"That's got to be hard."

"He doesn't deserve that," Shea continued passionately. "He doesn't deserve to be strung along like that, and neither does Lavender. They deserve to be with people who would choose them first."

Parvati nodded vigorously. "Exactly!"

Shea wondered if that was why Dean and Ginny together made him so angry. He wondered, if Dean were dating some other girl, would he be okay with it? He tried imagining it: Dean with Parvati, with Hermione, with Padma, with Lavender or Luna or even Susan Bones…

"Seeing them together makes me so angry," Parvati whispered, snapping Shea out of his thoughts. "Sometimes I just want to hit him, I get so mad."

"Sometimes I get the urge to pull her hair out," Shea said.

Parvati laughed out loud and sighed. "It's not that I actually hate him. Ron's a fine person. It's just that I hate them together. It makes me crazy."

"Yeah I feel the same," Shea replied.

"It's like I'm jealous of them," she said with a light, strained giggle. "Except not really. I just want my friend back."

Shea nodded. "Me too."

They talked and talked for another hour or so. Neville joined them shortly before Harry burst into the dormitory with Hermione in tow. He had a frazzled look in his eye, so Neville, Shea, and Parvati fled quickly to the common room. Parvati said goodnight and went up the girls' stairs, and Shea and Neville started a game of wizards' chess.

Hermione emerged from the boys' dormitories around ten minutes later with an annoyed and tired expression on her face.

"Are you and Harry done talking?" Neville asked as he yawned.

"Yes, sorry Neville," she replied.

"Ye just missed McLaggen," Shea told her. The almost-Keeper had stormed through the common room just five minutes earlier.

Hermione blanched. "I heard him on the stairs. That's why I didn't come down sooner."

Shea and Neville laughed, and Neville rose from the armchair he'd been sitting in, leaving their game unfinished.

"Sorry, Shea, I'm exhausted," he said. "I've been helping Professor Sprout with the rest of the Snargaluff pods."

"Fun," Shea said sarcastically.

Neville blushed and waved goodnight as he headed for the stairs. Shea leaned back and thought about what to do with the chess board. He could continue playing himself, but that usually just confused the chess pieces and ended in disaster, so he put them away, much to their chagrin.

Shea plopped back in the chair and decided to wait until Dean came back. Another hour passed, and the other party guests returned in various states of giddiness. Ron and Lavender snuck back in among them. Dean still hadn't returned, and Shea tried to keep his mind from wondering what was keeping him and Ginny away for so long.

It was almost midnight when Dean and Ginny stumbled through the portrait hole giggling and kissing. Shea had been on the verge of sleep, and he sat up startled. He caught sight of them and felt nauseous, then looked away quickly. They noticed him and giggled more.

"Goodnight," Ginny said, kissing Dean fiercely before heading for the girls' stairs.

"Night," Dean said as he watched her go. She disappeared behind the door, and he turned to smile at Shea.

"Ye had a good night, then?" Shea asked, trying to keep some of the bitterness out of his voice.

"Yeah, it was nice," Dean said. "Did you wait up for me?"

"Nah," Shea lied. "Fell asleep by the fire."

Dean nodded toward the stairs. "Let's go to bed. I'm knackered."

Shea laughed and they went toward the staircase together. As they started up the stairs, he felt Dean's hand press lightly to the small of his back then pull away quickly.

"Ah, sorry," Dean said. "Ginny hates it when I do that."

"I don't," Shea replied softly. "I like it."

Dean smiled and returned his hand to Shea's back. It felt good there, felt right. Shea hadn't even really noticed that it was a habit of Dean's since he'd been doing it so long. Shea started to imagine Dean's hands on him: his fingers around Shea's wrist, on his face, in his hair—

He tripped over a stair, and Dean caught him around the waist with his other arm. Shea's face flushed and his heart hammered against his ribs, very conscious of Dean's chest pressed against his back.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked.

"Fine," Shea replied. "Just tired. I'm dead on me feet," he said with a laugh.

Dean laughed and released him. They made it to their floor, and Shea darted to grab his pajamas and then ducked into the bathroom to change. He thought about what Parvati had said about being jealous of Lavender and Ron, about just wanting her friend back. Shea felt jealous as well, and he did want his friend back, but he felt there was something more to it.

He turned the sink on and splashed some cold water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror, at his flushed face and dilated pupils.

"What is wrong with me?" he whispered.

But as his mind was consumed with thoughts of Dean's hands, Dean's artwork, Dean's laughter, Dean, Dean, Dean…he had a sinking feeling that he knew the answer to that question.

HPHPHP

_[content warning: internalized transphobia, internalized homophobia]_

Shea had never been gladder for the Christmas holidays to arrive. Usually it signified a time when he became Siobhan again and had to pretend to be someone he wasn't, but this year it meant he could get away from these weird feelings he was having. They weighed heavily on his chest, the same way his feelings about his gender had weighed on him in the early years of his life—some undefined, repressed worry.

He felt he had to talk to someone before he went home, someone who might understand, and there was only one person who fit that bill.

"Hey, Par, could I have a minute?" he asked the next day as the Gryffindors descended down the grand staircase for breakfast.

"Sure," she said, brows pushing together in confusion.

He grabbed her wrist and they ducked down a corridor on the second floor landing. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked around to make sure they were alone.

"What's the matter, Shea?" she asked.

"I've been thinking," he said, "about what we talked about last night."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and I…I'm jealous too," Shea confessed. "I'm jealous of them."

"Of Dean and Ginny?" she asked to confirm. Her eyes widened. "Wait, d'you like Ginny?"

He shook his head and blanched. "No, no, Godric no."

Parvati laughed. "Then what?"

Shea swallowed heavily. "It's Dean," he whispered. "I think I like Dean."

Her eyes got wide. Shea knotted his hands in his robes as tears welled in his eyes. Parvati continued to stare at him, and he started to feel something break inside.

"Oh what's wrong with me," he moaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He took a few steps away from her until his back hit a wall, and he slid down to the floor. "First I'm a transgender freak and now I'm a bloody poof?! Why can't I just be normal?"

"There's nothing wrong with you," Parvati said suddenly and fiercely. She knelt in front of him and pulled his hands away, and he saw that she was also crying. "There's _nothing_ wrong with you. If there is…" She swallowed. "If there is, then there's something wrong with me too."

He stared at her incredulously, and she bit her lip and looked away.

"I like Lavender. I have for a long time now."

His heart swelled as he stared at her, realizing that for once he was not alone in his struggle. Parvati glanced up at him, and they threw their arms around each other. They shook with the weight of their fear, clinging to each other with all their strength. Once their tears began to slow, they pulled away and looked at each other, then just started laughing.

"We're a right pair, aren't we?" he said with a laugh, rubbing his robes over his face.

"Maybe we should start a club," she said, wiping her eyes. "The 'I'm queer and in love with my best friend' club."

Shea laughed. "Maybe we should."


	10. Chapter 10

As the Christmas holidays came to a close, Shea had almost been in a panic about having to be around Dean again. He didn't know how to act around Dean now that he'd realized how he felt. But thankfully that fear didn't last long, since he always knew how to be around Dean. Despite the heart flutters and shaky hands, everything was still the same between them, and that was how he wanted it to be. It helped that Dean still spent most of his time around Ginny, so that Shea didn't have to deal with hiding his feelings that much.

He figured that, in the end, it didn't really matter how he felt because there was no way he could ever tell Dean. First, Dean was dating Ginny, so he was clearly not gay. Second, it would make Shea even more of an outcast than he was already. And third, if he told Dean how he felt, he might lose Dean forever, and he just couldn't handle that. Parvati had looked concerned and strained when he told her all that, but she didn't say anything to dissuade him. She was in the same boat, after all.

They stuck together now even more than before, and Dean had started to notice. Shea and Parvati sat next to each other at all meals, and they spent a fair amount of time studying in the common room or the library. Every now and then Shea would notice a forlorn look from Dean right before Ginny snatched his attention away again.

"Are you and Parvati…?" Dean asked in a quiet voice one day during Potions.

Shea looked up at him. "What?"

"Are you, you know, dating?"

Shea laughed loudly, earning a suspicious look from Professor Slughorn as he surveyed the class.

"No, mate, I promise ye we're not dating," he said. He paused, then added, "She's not me type."

"Really?" Dean asked. He looked over at the table where Lavender and Parvati were working.

"Don't sound so relieved, Dean," Shea teased. "I know ye had the hots for her back in fourth year, but it still might make Ginny a bit jealous."

"I didn't—I'm not—" Dean sighed agitatedly.

Shea bumped Dean's arm gently with his shoulder. "'M only joking."

Dean recovered and smiled at him. "I know."

Shea smiled back at him and felt a flutter in his heart. He turned away and looked over at Lavender and Parvati. He watched as Parvati reached over to tuck Lavender's hair behind her ear to prevent it from falling into the cauldron. There was a softness in her eyes, and Shea knew he must have the same lovelorn look when he was near Dean.

HPHPHP

Shea sat in the common room by himself for a change, trying to keep his eyes from drooping shut as he read his Charms homework. Parvati was out running an errand with Lavender, and Dean was off doing something with Ginny. He tried very hard not to think much about what they might be up to on this fine Saturday evening.

Dean's face shimmered before his mind's eye as he stared out the window, feeling his eyelids slid down once more…

"Hello, um, Shea?"

Shea startled and looked up, surprised to see someone he'd never talked to before looking at him with wide eyes. A second year, he believed.

The boy was wringing the edge of his robes in his hands. "That's your name, right?"

"Yeah," Shea said, putting his Charms textbook aside. "What's yours?"

"Ellis," the boy replied.

"Alright, Ellis, what can I do ye for?" he asked.

Ellis looked around. There were a few other Gryffindors around, but they were mostly around the fire and not close to them.

"You…you're a girl who wants to be a boy, right?"

Shea cringed, and he tried to keep his voice even as he replied, "I was born with a girl's body, yes, but I've always known I'm a boy." He'd never talked about this with anybody aside from the Gryffindors in his year. He wondered if this was how everybody else talked about him behind his back.

"How do you know?" Ellis asked.

Shea let out a long breath and shook his head slightly. "I dunno. It feels better. It feels right. It doesn't feel like pretending."

Ellis nodded a bit.

"Why?" Shea asked, peering at him.

"Well, uh." Ellis glanced around again and leaned in. "I…I'm the opposite." He swallowed heavily. "I think I want to be a girl."

Shea sat back in the chair, his mind reeling. He knew there were other people like him in the world. There was a term for who he was, after all. _Transgender_. But it was a Muggle word, so he thought he was an anomaly in the magical community, something passed on through his dad's Muggleness. He'd never expected to find anyone like him at Hogwarts, or in the wizarding world at all.

But suddenly here was someone who was the opposite of him, who wanted everything Shea hated. Maybe there was a spell that would allow them to switch bodies and solve both of their problems. He doubted it, but he could dream. And really, he knew their bodies weren't the problem. It was the way society interpreted their bodies that caused the problem in the first place.

Ellis looked utterly terrified, Shea realized, still waiting for his response.

"That's okay," Shea said finally. "It's okay that you feel that way. There's nothing wrong with you."

Ellis pressed a fist against their mouth as tears rose up in their eyes. Shea reached out and put a hand on Ellis' shoulder.

"Have ye told anybody yet?"

"No," Ellis said. "Just you."

"McGonagall was really good about me switching dorms," Shea said softly. "I can go talk to her with ye if ye want."

"But the girls' stairs—"

"I think they'll work for ye now," Shea said. "Y'know, they stopped working for me when I said who I am, that I'm a boy."

Ellis' eyes shone. "Really?"

"Really," Shea replied.

Ellis looked down at the floor for a moment, then back at Shea. "I'm scared."

"I was scared too," Shea told Ellis. "But I had some great friends that helped me."

"Will you help me?" Ellis' eyes were wide and hopeful.

Something in Shea's chest broke and swelled. He felt a sense of duty as he stared at this child. He had to do what he could to protect Ellis, to stand up for them, to guide them the way Shea would've wanted somebody to guide him. There was nobody who could do that for Shea when he realized his identity, but perhaps he could do that for somebody else, and then they wouldn't have to struggle as much as he did.

"Yeah, of course I'll help ye," Shea said.

Together they went down to McGonagall's office and explained the situation to McGonagall, who was just as accepting and professional about it as she'd been when Shea first came to her five years ago. Ellis decided not to switch dorms immediately, but would consider over the next couple weeks.

"Thank you," Ellis said as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower.

"I'm here for ye," Shea replied. "Any support ye need, just let me know."

They got to the common room and Ellis paused, staring at the girls' staircase.

"Are ye okay?" Shea asked.

Ellis nodded. "I don't mind the boys' dorms. And I'd like to talk to the girls before springing it on them. I'm just happy I've been able to tell some people. I feel freer."

Shea smiled. "I know the feeling."

Ellis smiled back and approached the boys' staircase, then looked back at Shea. "You coming?"

Shea looked at the boys' dormitory and thought about how it was the one place Shea always wanted to be, and the one place Ellis wanted to leave, at least eventually. It was funny how the world worked out sometimes. What was right for one person wasn't always right for another. Shea thought about Dean and Ginny then. Maybe Ginny really was the right person for Dean, and Shea wasn't, even though Shea was pretty sure Dean was the right person for him.

"Yeah, I'm coming," Shea said, and they walked up the stairs together: two very different people, yet more alike than they'd thought.

HPHPHP

Shea wandered down to the common room the next night and joined Parvati at their usual spot in the common room. She looked up at him and gave him a quizzical look.

"Where were you last night?" she asked.

"Helping someone," he replied, then leaned in closer. "I think we really should start a club."

"What?" she asked with a laugh. "You're not serious."

"Not the in-love-with-my-best-friend club," Shea said impatiently. "But a club for _us_ —for gay and queer and transgender people and everybody else who's different."

Her face became tight. "But…that means telling people. That means—"

"It could be secret," he said quickly, excitement bringing color to his freckled cheeks. "Like Dumbledore's Army last year."

"If it's secret, how do we get people to join? What if other people find out? Shea, this could be bad for us, I don't want…" Her eyes shifted downward. "I don't want people finding out."

Shea was silent. The whole school knew about his gender already, but he didn't fancy the Slytherins adding the gay thing to the list of things they could bully him about. But he also knew that he had to do something. He had to make sure that any other people out there like him didn't feel alone.

"I met someone like me," he said quietly.

Parvati looked up curiously.

"Not someone who wants to be a boy, but someone who wants to be a—someone who _is_ a girl," Shea said. "And this person was so scared, Par, and I was able to help them. And they came to me for help because they knew who I am. If there was a club, we could all help each other. We could all trust each other and stand up for each other. And then…" He took a steadying breath. "Then we won't be alone."

Parvati looked wistful at the idea, but there was still hesitation in her eyes. "I just don't know how we'd do it."

"Leave that to me," Shea said firmly. "I'll figure everything out."


	11. Chapter 11

Shea had no idea how to start a secret club. He supposed he could go to Hermione for help since she was the organizational mind behind Dumbledore's Army, but there was a big part of him that wanted to do this on his own.

Still, he couldn't do it all by himself, so he turned to the most helpful person in Hogwarts: Minerva McGonagall.

"You wish to start a club for students who identify as you do?" McGonagall said slowly. "And you wish it to be secret?"

"Well, private at least," Shea explained. "So everybody's protected, y'know? I already know a couple students who'd probably come, but they just don't want the whole school knowin' about them."

"How do you intend to gather more members while maintaining privacy?"

"The school can know about me," Shea said, voice steady. "I don't care."

That wasn't true. He did care. He knew that to start this group he'd have to come out as gay in order to reach out to other gay and queer people as well as transgender people. But he found that he cared more about starting this group than he did about people knowing the truth.

McGonagall still looked concerned. "I'm not sure I understand—"

"I can be the contact person," Shea said. "I'll be the visible member, and everybody else can be secret. If someone wants to come, they can ask me and I can give them the meeting location and time. I think they should change each time, just to keep bullies from finding us.

He began pacing and thinking out loud. McGonagall watched him with light curiosity.

"The meetings could probably be monthly. I don't imagine we'll have a lot to talk about. The important thing is just to know each other, to know we're not alone. Then we can go to each other for support at any time."

He stopped and looked up at her, and McGonagall was visibly taken aback by the ferocity in his eyes.

"I really've thought this through, professor. Please," he said. "This is important to me."

"I can see that," she said with some amusement. "What do you wish me to do? What is my role in all this?"

Shea smiled and relaxed a little now that he saw she was on his side for this. "I was thinkin' ye could be like a chaperone. Add a little legitimacy to it, y'know? Assure people that ye won't tell their parents, but that ye're on their side as a professor and authority figure."

"That sounds doable," she said.

"Could ye also help in finding classrooms to use?" he asked.

"Yes, I should be able to do that," McGonagall replied. "When would you like your first meeting to be?"

"In a couple weeks," he said. "Gives me time to start telling a few people. Then monthly after that."

"I will have to tell the headmaster, but I imagine he'll be in support of it," she said.

Shea smiled brightly. "Thanks, professor. Thank ye so much."

"I must say," McGonagall started, "that I am proud of how you've grown since your first year, Mr. Finnigan. Your strength of heart is inspiring to many. I wanted you to know."

Shea thought he saw a glimmer of tears in his professor's eyes, but she blinked and it was gone. He thought it was funny that she used the same phrase that the sorting hat had used back when he'd been sorted. A small fire of pride ignited in his chest, and he hoped that he was making the hat proud of its decision.

Despite the fire of determination, Shea became less sure about starting this club as he walked back to Gryffindor Tower. Now he was actually going to have to tell people. He was going to have to be the figurehead of an organization of people that society hated and looked down upon.

And there was one person he had to tell first.

HPHPHP

"Have you told him yet?" Parvati asked in a hushed voice.

Shea stabbed his sausage moodily. "No."

She sighed in exasperation. "You've got to do it soon, or he'll hear from someone else."

"I know!" he exclaimed. He looked around the table and saw that Ginny and Dean still hadn't appeared for breakfast. This made him lose his appetite, and he shoved his plate away from him.

He'd considered not telling Dean and keeping it a secret from him. Then he could pretend everything was just as it always was. But even with the strain between them, keeping something like this from Dean just felt wrong. He knew he had to tell him, but that didn't make it any easier.

"He's always with Ginny," Shea said glumly. "We never hang out by ourselves anymore."

"To be fair, you're always with me now, so don't blame this all on him," Parvati said, pointing her fork at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, shove off," he grumbled. "Ye're supposed to be on me side."

"I _am_ on your side," Parvati replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder as Lavender and Ron entered the Great Hall for breakfast. "That's why I want him to hear it from you."

"Ye know what telling him means," Shea whispered.

She tore her eyes from Lavender and stared sadly at him.

"And I see ye still haven't told _her_."

"Haven't told who what?" Lavender asked as she sat down next to Parvati and forcibly pulled Ron down next to her. Ron looked pained, staring down the table to where Harry and Hermione were eating.

"Erm, told Hermione," Parvati said, glancing around, "that she's got to remember to take her hair out of the shower drain. It's her fault the house elves still aren't cleaning it after her S.P.E.W. nonsense last year."

"Oh, yes, that needs to be taken care of," Lavender said with a firm nod.

Shea glanced up and noticed Ginny and Dean coming into the Great Hall. Ginny looked effervescent. She was glowing with laughter, her hands wrapped around Dean's arm and her crimson hair falling over her shoulders. Dean looked beyond happy, like it was a blessing just to be next to her.

Shea wondered if Dean had ever looked that happy next to him.

He shot up out of his seat, drawing stares from his friends, but he ignored them and stalked down the aisle to the entrance of the hall and caught at Dean's sleeve.

"Could I have a word?" he asked.

Dean nodded with a worried look and turned with Shea out of the hall, giving a backward nod to Ginny as he left. Shea tried not to feel pleased at the scowl on the girl's face.

"Is something wrong?" Dean asked. "Are you okay?"

"I have to tell ye something," Shea said as they got further away from the Great Hall. "And I'm now sure how ye'll react."

A wide grin spread on Dean's face. "You really are dating Parvati, aren't you? Come on, don't be embarrassed, she—"

"No! No, that's not—I told ye she's not—"

"Your type, sure, but she seems into you," Dean said. "Why not give it a try?"

"Because I'm gay!"

The words seemed to echo in the hall and in his heart. It was the first time he'd really said it out loud. Dean's face froze in his teasing smile before it slowly morphed into serious confusion. He continued to stare, and Shea felt shame creeping up his neck, as cold and immobilizing as if Nearly Headless Nick had floated through him.

"I don't like girls," Shea said. He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I didn't want to be one, and now I don't even want to date one."

Dean's lips pursed, but Shea couldn't tell if it was in disappointment or from holding in a laugh.

"'M starting a club," he continued out of a desperate need to fill the silence and explain himself. "A club for people like me. All the other members will be kept secret, but the whole school will know about me soon enough, so I wanted to tell ye first. I wanted…I wanted ye to hear it from me."

Dean opened his mouth, but nothing came out so he closed it again. He frowned in thought.

"This doesn't change anything," Shea said earnestly. "I-I don't like ye that way," he lied. "Ye're still me best friend. At least, I… _hope_ ye are."

Shea cast him one more look, then stared at the ground. He felt tears rising in his eyes and his heart swelled almost to the point of explosion, when he heard Dean finally speak.

"Yeah," Dean said quietly. "We're still best friends."

Shea turned to look at him. Dean offered him a small smile.

"I've, uh, got to eat still," Dean said, nodding back to the Great Hall, "but can we talk later?"

He nodded fervently. "Yeah. Yes. Yes, I'd like that."

Dean started to turn away, but then looked back once more. "I miss ye, Shea. We should hang out more. Like the old days."

Shea smiled. "Sounds great."


	12. Chapter 12

_[content warning: transphobic remark]_

The following week flew by. Shea began alerting just a few people, mostly Gryffindors, about the club and the upcoming meeting. He thought that he'd start the group small, then build from there, that way the rumors wouldn't spread as quickly.

That backfired almost immediately, though, as news that Shea Finnigan was gay and starting a club reached the whole school's ears within a day.

"If you like boys, why didn't you just stay a girl?" Lavender had asked him promptly the next morning over breakfast. "Wouldn't that have been easier?"

Shea's spine stiffened, and the students around them quieted to hear the answer.

"D'ye think any part of this is easy?" he asked her quietly. "If I'd _stayed a girl_ , then I'd still be lying to meself, because I'm not a girl. D'ye think that'd be easy for me?"

She shook her head quickly, blue ribbon bouncing in her hair. He knew she hadn't really meant anything by it, that she often just spoke without thinking, but she still needed to learn. They all needed to learn.

"None of it's easy," Shea continued, "but it's better than pretending to be someone 'm not. And I'm starting this club so it can be easier for others to not pretend anymore."

That seemed to get the rest of his Gryffindor friends on his side. What he was most concerned about was the fate of the club. With most of the school treating him as more of a pariah than ever before, he hardly expected anyone except Parvati and Ellis at the first meeting.

Still, he had some mixed hopes for a good turnout.

Shea checked his watch on Monday night and sighed. He put his study materials away and began getting ready to go.

"Today's the first meeting, right?" Dean asked from where he sat on his bed.

Shea looked over. "Yeah."

"You nervous?"

"A bit," Shea admitted. "I don't really know what to do."

"You'll figure it out," Dean said. "You always do."

They'd started studying together again every now and then. Most of Dean's social time was still being taken up by Ginny, but Dean really was making an effort to talk to Shea more often again. Things were still strange between them, and Shea couldn't tell if it was because of not spending time together for so long or because he was gay. It was probably both.

Shea looked over at him and noticed that Dean had abandoned studying and was now sketching. He peered closer.

"Is that me?" he asked.

Dean looked up in alarm and tried half-heartedly to cover the page in the sketchbook. Shea shoved his hands away and looked at the drawing.

"Ye've never drawn me before," Shea said softly, staring intently at the page.

Dean had drawn him sharply, with hard edges where there were soft curves in real life. The drawing of Shea looked tough and determined and masculine.

"You think that?" Dean asked with a quizzical brow.

Shea turned away from the drawing. "What?"

"You think I've never drawn you before?" Dean elaborated, pulling the sketchbook from Shea's hands and flipping to the beginning of the book.

The first page was covered with Shea's face in various expressions: his eyes wide with joy, his nose twisted in confusion, his mouth curled in a teasing sneer, and more. The next page showed Shea sitting in one of the window seats of their tower. The next page was a close up of his face, chin resting in his hand as he dozed off. The rest of the pages were all like that: various art pieces and sketches, all of Shea.

"I never knew," Shea said, pausing on one of him in his dress robes. His heart pounded in his chest as he observed the careful lines and detailed shading.

"You know I don't like to share my art," Dean replied.

"But ye show me—"

"It's different," he interrupted. "Showing you pictures of other people, other things, that's not as big a deal. But showing you sketches of yourself?" Dean shrugged. "I was worried you'd find it strange."

"Maybe a bit," Shea teased as he flipped through more of the sketches.

Dean rolled his eyes and snatched the sketchbook back. "Get out of here or you'll be late for your own meeting."

Shea laughed and went over to his trunk to pull out his cloak. He reflected on the ease that was between them just now and how it was almost like it used to be.

"Hey, Dean?" Shea said. "Thanks for still being my friend even after all this."

Dean looked up at him and smiled. "I'll always be your friend, Shea. No matter what."

Shea felt the urge to hug him but resisted, and just gave a small wave as he left the boys' tower. He felt a flutter of nervousness as he headed out of Gryffindor Tower and toward the third floor classroom that McGonagall had chosen for the first meeting.

He hesitated before the door, then strengthened his resolve and pushed it open.

There were only five people waiting for him in the classroom, which was two more than expected, so he counted it as a win. Parvati and Padma sat close to each other, identical except for the trim on their robes and the style of their hair. Ellis sat at the front of the classroom looking nervous and small. Luna sat apart from them, staring up at the ceiling with a dreamily pleased expression. And McGonagall stood at the front of the classroom looking stiff and uncomfortable.

"Ah, Mr. Finnigan," McGonagall said upon seeing him.

"Is this everyone?" Shea asked.

"It appears so."

He got up to the front of the classroom and felt the pressure of the five pairs of eyes that were fixed on him. Well, four actually. Luna was still staring at the ceiling.

"Hello, everyone," he said. "Me name is Shea. Well, I guess you all knew that already." He cleared his throat. "How about we introduce ourselves?"

Shea looked out at them and was met with silence. He sent a pleading look to Parvati, and she sighed.

"I'm Parvati," she said, then nudged her twin.

"Padma."

"Uh, erm, Ellis."

Luna looked away from the ceiling and smiled at them. "Luna."

"Right, thanks," Shea said, then looked over at McGonagall. "And ye know this is Professor McGonagall."

She inclined her head at them.

"So." Shea cleared his throat. "Welcome!"

They all stared back at him with varying expressions: Padma, stony. Luna, pleasantly neutral. Parvati, pitying. Ellis, nervous. Shea suddenly realized he didn't really prepare much for this meeting. He had the dream, the ideal of what he wanted it to be, but he had no idea how to reach that.

"Is there anything anybody wants to talk about?" he asked.

More silence. He shifted his feet and bit his lip.

Finally, Padma spoke, "How is this supposed to work? Do we all just talk about how we're different?"

"We're here to support each other," Shea said. "We can talk about that if we want, but we can also talk about anything. Problems we have, or good things that happen…anything."

They stared back at him.

"Look, now we all know each other, right?" Shea said. "So now if I have a problem, or if I just need to talk to somebody, I know that I can talk to any of ye about it and ye'll understand. Right?"

Parvati and Ellis nodded earnestly.

"So maybe these club meetings won't be excitin' or nothing," he said, "but it'll be where we can connect with each other. And Professor McGonagall is here to protect us as a professor. So if ye need help from an adult, ye can go to her."

Shea looked out at their faces and felt disappointment that they weren't as excited about this as he was. He understood that they were scared to open up. He just didn't know how to make them see how important this was.

"Ye all know about me, right?" he started. He suddenly felt exposed, and he wanted to stop and change the subject, but he forced himself to continue. They had to understand. "I, uh, I have a girl body. But I'm actually a boy. And that was really hard for me. I felt bad for it, and like I was the only one. But when I came to Hogwarts, that all got better after a while."

They were listening intently now. Even Luna looked a little more serious.

"Professor McGonagall helped me move to the boys' dorm, and my friends all accepted me. It's been difficult, yeah. I get picked on, and I still haven't told me mam, but me friends make it better. But they still don't understand a lot of it, as much as they try. So I thought that maybe, if there were others like me, that we could all meet up and support each other and not be alone anymore."

"That's nice," Luna said softly. "I know some people who weren't sure about coming, but I think they'll come next time if I tell them that."

He smiled at her. "Thanks, Luna."

Padma raised her hand slightly.

"Er, yeah, Padma?"

"Is there a membership sheet we need to sign?" she asked. "Like in Dumbledore's Army?"

He shook his head. "No."

"But how do you make sure nobody tells?" Luna asked.

Marietta Edgecomb's pimpled face sprang into Shea's mind, and he shook his head again.

"We have to trust each other," Shea said simply. "That's the only way any of this is going to work. This has to be a group that people _want_ to be part of, not because they signed some parchment. More like a community than a club, I guess."

They nodded, and Parvati smiled approvingly at him.

"Well, are there any other questions?" he asked.

Everyone looked around at each other. Shea figured that they could just end the meeting then. Ten minutes was rather fast and not what he expected, but he figured it was better than nothing. Maybe next month—

"C-Could I say something?" Ellis asked.

Shea smiled. "Yeah, sure."

Ellis turned to the rest of them, and Shea realized how intimidating it must be for Ellis to be the only lower class student in the room, and he felt very proud of Ellis for coming anyway.

"I'm like Shea," Ellis said, "except I'm a girl." Ellis' hands were twisting nervously. "I'm moving to the girls' dorms this Friday. The other girls are being really nice about it, but…I'm scared the stairs won't let me up."

Parvati reached out and extended her hand toward Ellis. Ellis stared at her for a moment and then moved closer, gratefully accepting her hand.

"Also, I think I'd like to try out a girl name," Ellis continued, holding tightly to Parvati's hand. "Er, what do you all think of Violet? It was my grandmum's name."

"That's a lovely name," Luna said.

"It's sweet," Padma added.

Parvati nodded and smiled.

Shea turned and held his hand out. "Nice to meet ye, Violet."

Violet beamed back at him, and Shea knew he was doing the right thing.


	13. Chapter 13

The hub-bub about Shea's queer club died down faster than Shea had expected it to. By mid-February, most people had forgotten about it. They'd had some new members at the February meeting, and a few more at March. Dumbledore even dropped by to that one. His presence seemed to make some of the students nervous, but they still engaged and talked about what they were experiencing. The only time Dumbledore spoke during the meeting was when he'd mysteriously remarked that he wished this club had existed earlier.

It was wonderful to see the club members begin to open up and share with each other. They'd discussed struggling with their identities, pondered how to explain to family and friends, and explored ways to stand up to bullies. There'd even been a request to have the meetings every two weeks rather than monthly, so they'd made the switch.

The first true test of the group was when a Slytherin showed up.

Club members had already started showing up early and were chatting amiably with each other when the door opened and Blaise Zabini strode in, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Conversation dropped immediately, and a few of the Gryffindors' hands hovered above their wands in their pockets, ignoring McGonagall's glare.

"So this is the place?" Blaise asked after a weighty pause.

Shea looked at him. "Depends on what ye're looking for."

"Same thing as everyone else here," he replied, then took a seat at the far end of the classroom.

Shea watched him and felt a war inside. On the one hand, he could be a spy for the Slytherin bullies. Blaise could take note of everyone here and then reveal their secrets. In order to protect the group, Shea should kick him out.

But on the other hand, this group was started as a place of no discrimination, and that—sadly—included Slytherins. After all, Blaise took a risk in coming here and revealing himself to the club members, and he wasn't acting like a spy. He was acting like someone with a secret shame, and Shea knew what that was like.

"Alright, welcome everyone," Shea said, breaking the silence. "It's nice to see some new faces." He smiled pointedly at Blaise, who caught his eye for half a second before staring back down at the desk.

"As always, remember that this here's a community, and so we all need to trust each other," Shea continued with the usual welcome speech. "What's said in this room stays in this room, and…"

The meeting progressed as usual. Members shared stories of questioning themselves, of interacting with students and professors, of dealing with their families. Jokes were told, a few tears were shed. Blaise didn't say anything, but at the end of the meeting everyone felt a bit lighter and closer.

"Alright, everyone, time to get back to yer dorms," Shea said, glancing at his watch. "Good meeting today! See ye in a couple weeks."

The students filtered out of the empty classroom in groups and pairs, staggering themselves so there wasn't a suspicious crowd in the corridor. Shea looked up and noticed Blaise hovering near him.

"Thanks," Blaise grunted, "for including me."

"Everyone's welcome here," Shea said.

Blaise nodded, then straightened his shoulders and left the room without another word.

"Well that was…nice," Parvati said, hanging back by Shea.

"In a way," Shea replied with a shrug.

"You think he'll keep everyone's privacy?"

Shea nodded. "I do. Sure he saw all of us, but we also saw him. And he comes from a really powerful family and is friends with Draco. I don't think he wants to risk that."

"I think you're right." Parvati patted him on the back.

"Don't expect to get let off easy if you're not in the tower by curfew," McGonagall said as she swept by them and into the corridor.

Parvati and Shea looked at each other and laughed.

HPHPHP

"Y'know, I think these'd be better if I posed for 'em," Shea said as he flipped through Dean's sketches of him.

"Shut up, you arse," Dean snapped, throwing a pillow from his bed at Shea.

Shea batted it out of the air. "Careful, ye might make me rip one."

Dean rolled his eyes. Shea returned to looking at the drawings. Since learning that Dean actually did draw him, he'd become a bit obsessed with looking at them. And there were a lot to look at—five whole sketchbooks of drawings just of him. He was embarrassed and flattered at the same time, and it was doing nothing to help the fire in his heart that still burned for Dean, no matter how hopeless the situation.

"'Sides, ye have to admit ye take some liberties here and there," Shea said, peering at the sketches.

"What do you mean?" Dean sounded affronted, and he got off his bed to go look over Shea's shoulder at the drawings.

Shea felt Dean's chest pressing lightly against his back, and had to fight to prevent the flush that threatened to spread across his face and down his neck.

"I don't look like that," Shea said, pointing at one of the drawings.

It was one of the more recent sketches. It portrayed Shea leaning against a doorframe with messy hair and a lopsided grin. He looked like a man, with a pointed jawline and a lean figure.

"Yes you do," Dean replied, hooking his chin over Shea's shoulder as he reached around Shea to flip the pages of the book.

Shea felt his blush deepen. "Do not."

"Well, that's how I see you," Dean replied. "And I'm an artist, so I see the true shape of things."

"Piss off," Shea said, shoving Dean away from him. He didn't really want the physical contact to end, but he wasn't sure his heart could handle it anymore.

Shea closed the sketchbook, running his fingers over the worn cover. "Do ye ever draw Ginny?"

"Sometimes." Dean grabbed one of his people sketchbooks from his trunk and handed it over to Shea. He sat near him on the bed.

Shea flipped through the pages. There was Neville staring at a plant with adoration, McGonagall's tightlipped smile, Colin Creevy with his camera, and more, all with various drawings of Ginny interspersed throughout. His throat felt tight.

"Does she know ye draw me?"

"Er, no," Dean said, scratching the back of his head. "Don't think I've mentioned it."

Shea felt triumphant in that, and in the fact that he had whole sketchbooks dedicated to him, while Ginny just got pages in another.

"How are things with ye two?" Shea asked. He hated asking about their relationship, but it was important to Dean and Dean was important to him, so he suffered through it.

To his surprise, Dean let out a long, heavy sigh, leaning back against Shea's pillows.

Shea sat up straight. "Not paradise?"

"We haven't been talking much, and when we do we're usually fighting."

"Over what?"

"She thinks I'm too sensitive when it comes to Harry," Dean said. "But she frets over him constantly, and everybody knows she liked him for years. Being teammates is putting a strain on us, too. And she doesn't like me drawing when she's talking. She thinks I'm not paying attention."

"That's silly," Shea replied.

"And then there's other little things that she hates, like me putting my hand on her back when we're walking, or when I spend time with you—"

"What?"

Dean looked up at him, then back down. "Yeah. She doesn't much like it when I hang out with you a lot."

"But ye're my best friend."

"That's what I told her," Dean insisted. "It's not like I get jealous when she hangs out with Luna or her other friends."

"She's _jealous_ of me?" Shea asked. He felt a sense of victory for some reason.

Dean shrugged. "I suppose."

Shea paused and considered his next words. He wanted his next statement to come from a place of being Dean's friend, not from being in love with him.

"Dean, if there are this many problems, why're ye still dating her?"

Shea's voice had been soft, scared to let it be any louder unless it betrayed his true feelings. For a moment he wasn't sure if Dean had even heard him or not—if he'd just imagined saying it—but just when he was about to speak again, Dean let out another long sigh.

"It's not all bad," Dean said. "It's nice, dating someone. Spending time with her, and…" He blushed. "The other stuff."

Shea shook his head and grimaced, and Dean laughed.

"Okay, don't pretend you haven't thought about it," Dean teased.

"What, the other stuff?"

"Yeah!"

"Not with a girl!" he retorted

Dean's eyebrows rose up for a moment, and then he laughed again, but it wasn't as robust as previously. It was an awkward laugh, and Shea's face heated.

"Sorry," Shea muttered, looking down. He scooted a bit away from Dean.

"No, it's fine," Dean said. "I just forget sometimes."

Shea nodded and began picking at a few loose strings in his bedspread. They still hadn't talked about Shea being gay since he came out to Dean even though months had passed.

"So, you have thought about it, then? But with a guy?" Dean asked slowly.

He nodded again.

"How would that work?"

Shea sighed exasperatedly. "I don't know. Probably mostly the same? It isn't like I've got a handbook for this, okay?" he snapped.

Dean raised his hands in defense. "I'm sorry, I'm just curious."

"I know, I…" Shea twisted his hands together. "I appreciate it. I do, more'n ye know. Ye've always been so good to me, understandin' and everything. I just don't want to talk about it."

"That's fine," Dean replied. "I understand."

Except he didn't. He couldn't. He would never understand, because Shea would never tell him that he was the one Shea had imagined those things with. His skin was starting to crawl. Shea wouldn't mind talking about this with any of his other friends, but that's because feelings weren't involved there.

"I'm gonna call it a night," Shea told him, stacking the sketchbooks and handing them back to him.

Dean rose off the bed and nodded. He set the books on his own bed before he turned quickly and wrapped Shea up in a hug. It was an awkward one, with Dean stooping at the waist and causing Shea's neck to tilt all the way back, but it was still warm and solid and familiar.

"Whenever you want to talk, just let me know," Dean said. "It doesn't bother me."

Shea nodded as well as he could, briefly curling his fingers into Dean's shirt before letting go of him.

HPHPHP

Shea was in the common room on the day that a hurricane swept into Gryffindor Tower.

Well, that was an exaggeration. There wasn't an actual hurricane, but hurricane-level chaos certainly ensued on that night.

He and Parvati were playing wizard's chess while taking a break from studying when suddenly loud voices filled the common room. They turned and saw Lavender shouting at Ron near the boys' staircase while Dean and Ginny were having a heated argument by the portrait hole. Shea felt like he was watching two Quidditch games at once, his attention bouncing back and forth between the two fights.

"It's like you don't care about anybody but Harry and Hermione!" Lavender cried.

"I just need personal space, okay? Why don't you get that?!" Ginny snarled.

"It's not—well, I—" Ron stammered.

"All your space is just pushing me away," Dean countered.

Shea and Parvati exchanged bright looks. Shea instantly felt a little bad for being happy at their best friends' obvious misery, but he couldn't help it. This was what he'd been wanting for so long.

"Do you think they're about to break up?" Parvati whispered.

"I've no idea," Shea whispered back. "Did we cause this by wishin' it?"

She stifled a giggle and shoved him. "That's not funny! The fallout from this is going to be really bad!"

Shea knew she was right. Lavender looked to be on the verge of an emotional breakdown, and Dean's face read as both betrayed and angry. He knew Dean and Ginny were having problems, but he didn't expect their relationship to fall apart so soon after his and Dean's talk. It had only been a couple weeks.

Lavender let out a sob and fled to the girls' staircase. Parvati followed her without another word to Shea. He watched Ginny and Dean intently. Their body language wasn't as tense and aggressive as before. Now they just looked tired.

"I think we've reached the end of our run," he heard Ginny say quietly.

"Me too."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

Ginny looked up at him with teary eyes and pursed lips, and then she left through the portrait hole. Dean stood there in the silence, all eyes fixed on him and Ron to see what they'd do.

"Show's over, kids," Shea snapped, standing from his chair and glaring at everybody.

Dean and Ron made brief eye contact and grimaced at each other. Then Ron went back up the boys' staircase, and Dean joined Shea by the fireplace. Everybody else turned back to what they were doing before, though they still shot furtive glances at Dean and Shea.

"Are ye alright?" Shea asked quietly.

"Ask me again in a few hours," Dean replied. He nodded at the half-played chess game. "Mind if I pick up where Parvati left off?"

"Be my guest," Shea replied, clenching his teeth to keep himself from smiling.


	14. Chapter 14

_[content warning: biphobic remarks]_

Following Dean and Ginny's break-up, him and Shea settled back into their rhythm in no time. Shea didn't know why he was surprised by this. There was a reason they were such good friends. They'd just gotten a little off track.

"I'd better get going," Shea said one night a couple weeks later. He closed his charms textbook and set it aside.

Dean looked up. "What? Why?"

"Club meeting."

"Oh. Right." He looked back down at his sketch with a forlorn expression.

Shea bit his lip. "Ye could come with, if ye want. Not everyone who comes is gay or trans. We welcome friends, too."

Dean met his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He nodded after a moment. "Okay. I'm curious what it's like, anyway."

Shea smiled and was suddenly excited. This club was one of the few parts of his life that was separate from Dean, and now Dean was finally going to experience it.

"Well, let's go," Shea said, clambering off his bed.

Dean followed, and they departed Gryffindor Tower. They walked in silence, their footsteps echoing in the empty corridors, and Shea could sense the tension in his friend.

Maybe this was a bad idea. He'd pressured Dean into coming when Dean wasn't ready. Dean hadn't previously expressed any interest in the club, and Shea just wanted to spend lots of time with him now that he wasn't dating Ginny, so he'd invited him.

"Are ye okay?" Shea asked nervously.

"What are the rules?" Dean asked. "I don't want to do anything wrong."

"Oh. The rules." Shea smiled with relief. "Well ye can't tell anybody what happens in the meeting. Everything is private unless they say otherwise. Treat everyone fairly. Those are the basics."

"What are people going to think?" he asked. "I know you said friends can come, but won't people still assume?"

"People'll think what they think," Shea replied. "When ye introduce yourself ye could say ye're there as a friend. But also, we've been best friends for years, so I don't think it'll stir up anything."

Dean nodded slowly. "Will I know anyone?"

Shea smiled. "Yeah, ye will."

"Do you have a club name? Like Dumbledore's Army did?"

He laughed. "Nah. But I guess I call it a community sometimes."

"I like that," Dean said. "It sounds inviting."

They got to the classroom on the seventh floor that McGonagall had secured for them. The professor and a few members were already there, including Violet, Herbert Fleet, Sue Li, and Isobel MacDougal.

"Evening, Shea," Isobel greeted.

"Evenin'," Shea responded. "Are Padma and Luna coming?"

"Should be," Sue said. "I think they were in the library."

Sure enough, Padma and Luna floated through the doorway with Parvati in tow. Parvati brightened upon seeing Dean and started chatting with him, which made him visibly more comfortable. More and more members filtered into the classroom as it got closer to eight o'clock.

Shea glanced at his watch and nodded at Parvati to close the door. He began the welcome speech and became very conscious of Dean's eyes on him as he talked. He was sure he was blushing, but he couldn't help it. There was something very attentive in Dean's gaze that made his stomach turn and his heart flutter.

They got through the introductions and then to the discussion portion of the meeting. Having Blaise as a member had proved quite useful in learning where to avoid the Slytherin bullies. Meeting with various House members also brought different perspectives to the issues they discussed—identity, family, loyalty, et cetera.

Parvati raised her hand. "I've been thinking about something, and I wanted to discuss it with you all."

"Go on," Shea said.

"Well, it's something I've been struggling with," Parvati continued. "I've liked this one girl for a very long time, but didn't realize it until a few months ago. So I thought I must like girls instead, right?" She wrung her hands. "But the thing is, I still like boys. Is that okay? I should just like one, shouldn't I?"

"It makes sense to like one," Herbert said. "It's normal for girls to only like boys, so if you like girls then you should only like girls. One or the other, right?"

"I disagree," Padma said. "What's normal shouldn't have anything to do with it. None of this is normal, so why should we apply that to what she feels?"

"If she likes boys, then she's half normal," Blaise spoke up.

"But she still likes girls, so she's still entirely not 'normal,'" Padma snapped.

"Keep it civil," McGonagall reminded them.

They glanced at her, sitting in the corner of the room with a copy of the Wizarding World News in her hands. Padma cleared her throat and folded her hands.

"I think we've gotten off topic," said Roger Malone. "We're not competing about who's more normal, we're discussing the idea of liking both of the two genders."

"Are there two?"

Everyone turned to look at Luna.

"What do you mean?" Roger asked.

"We were raised thinking there's two," Luna continued, holding up the ends of her hair and staring at them, "but Shea and Violet make me question that."

"But I'm a girl, and Shea's a boy," Violet responded. "That's still two."

"Yes, but it's different, isn't it?" Luna replied. "And, you know, sometimes I feel like neither. What gender is that?"

They were all silent as they mulled this over. Luna continued playing with her hair for a few moments, then glanced over at Shea and smiled sweetly.

"How about we save this discussion of genders for next meeting," Shea suggested. "We can each gather our thoughts on it and discuss it better then."

He waited for everybody to start nodding, and then he nodded at Parvati.

"Now, back to the question that Parvati brought up," Shea said.

Parvati sighed and ran her hands over her face. "It's just how I feel. I can't control it. None of us can."

Padma reached over to her twin and rubbed her shoulders. Dean also reached over and patted her arm. Parvati drew in a deep breath and smiled at the both of them.

"I guess it just feels a little selfish," Herbert said finally. "Most of us only like one kind of person, but you're going for everyone."

Padma rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm not 'going for' anyone, so she can have my share."

Herbert looked flabbergasted, and Parvati, Sue, and Isobel burst into giggles.

"Alright, I think that was a good discussion for today," Shea said, glancing at his watch. "If anyone has anything brief to share, feel free, and then we'll adjourn."

Only a few spoke up, and then they all began to slowly filter out of the room. Herbert approached Parvati, looking lightly abashed.

"I'm sorry for being rude," he said. "It's an odd idea to get used to, but I'll work on it."

"It's okay, Herbert," she replied. "See you next meeting."

Padma took her arm and, together with Luna, they swept out of the room. Shea got the feeling that Parvati didn't really forgive Herbert, but it was a nice gesture on Herbert's part, and Shea told him that. Herbert brightened, and then he and Roger left as well.

After a few minutes it was just him, Dean, and McGonagall.

"A lively discussion today, Mr. Finnigan," McGonagall told him. "And it's nice to see you supporting your friend, Mr. Thomas."

"Of course, Professor," Dean replied with a smile.

"Until tomorrow."

She tipped her hat at them and then left. They shut the door behind them as they also exited into the corridor. They walked in silence for a few moments, and Shea felt his heart hammering in his chest. Dean had been mostly silent throughout the meeting, and Shea couldn't tell what his impression was.

"So," Shea said, praying his voice didn't shake, "what did ye think?"

"It was really cool!" Dean exclaimed enthusiastically. "I had no idea there were so many people who…who…who felt different. And talking about all of it, that was really interesting. And—" He smiled softly at Shea, whose insides melted instantaneously. "—it was awesome seeing you in charge of it all."

Shea blushed and looked away. "'S nothing."

"Is not!" Dean said. "Shea, you brought all those people together, and gave them a place to be themselves. It's incredible."

"Well I'm glad ye liked it," Shea said.

They walked down a flight of stairs.

"So, what do you think?" Dean asked, his voice quieter.

"Of what?"

"Of what Parvati said."

"Oh." Shea got quiet. He hadn't really thought about it yet. He was too focused on mediating the discussion. "Well, it's not for me. I'm just not interested in girls. But if that's how she feels, I don't really see any problem with it. I just want her to be happy. I don't care if she finds a boy or a girl." He remembered what Luna said. "Or someone in between."

"But it is possible? To like both?"

Shea glanced up at him. "Yeah. Yeah, it's possible. Anything is."

Dean nodded slowly, looking deep in thought. His brows were furrowed together, his eyes focused on something in the distance as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower. Seamus let him think in silence. It was a lot to take in.

A while later, Dean spoke again. "The girl she likes…is it Lavender?"

"Mm."

Dean paused. "I think they'd be nice together."

"Ye do?" Shea sounded surprised.

"They're such good friends already," Dean said softly. "It makes sense."

Shea looked away from him, his throat tight. "Yeah. Yeah, it does."


	15. Chapter 15

The castle had lost all of its usual warmth and joy. The halls felt colder and draftier than ever, despite June's arrival. Students didn't speak in the halls. Teachers escorted them to and from classes, meals, and the dorms. There was no mirth on anyone's faces even though final exams had been cancelled and they would soon be released for the summer.

Dumbledore's death—Dumbledore's _murder_ —had stolen their sense of safety. Hogwarts had once been the most secure place in the world, safer than even Gringotts. But Snape and the Death Eaters' invasion had violated the very halls they called home and taken the man they loved.

The morning after, once news had reached the outside world, the owls and letters started flooding in. Daily Prophet reporters milled about in front of the gates to the school. Different Ministry officials appeared every day. Slytherins were being interviewed by McGonagall to see if any of them had known about Malfoy's plans. Parents arrived to take their children home early.

Shea called an emergency meeting two days after what the Prophet was now calling the Battle of the Astronomy Tower. McGonagall wasn't there that night since she had to deal with school matters. Ironically, it was their biggest meeting yet, but Shea couldn't take joy in that. This group was created to give support to each other, and they all needed that now more than ever. He looked around at the somber faces before him and saw the same mix of defeated and defiant gleaming in their eyes.

"I don't know what to say," he said. "I think we all know this is only the beginnin'. I know there's rumors of the school closing, or of people not wanting to come back. But if it is open, if ye do come back, then ye need to support each other, _really_ be there for each other. Blood doesn't matter, House doesn't matter. We're in this together."

Shea took a long, slow look around the room. There were his closest friends, people he had classes with, others he'd only seen at meetings, a few he'd never even spoken to before today. He wondered how many would make it through this.

"We've all heard what it was like last time," he continued. "People disappearin', being tortured, dying. But I think the way we survive is together. Stick together, stand together, and stay safe together. I hope to see everyone here again."

They looked around at each other, and Shea hoped they were seeing not what made them different but what made them the same: kids with their whole lives ahead of them.

"That's all I have to say today," Shea said. "Stay and talk if you want, or you can leave."

There was a moment's pause, with most people staring down at the floor or their laps, and then Luna got up from her seat and marched over to one of the two Slytherins sitting with Blaise.

"Hello, I'm Luna. What's your name?" she asked, holding her hand out and smiling widely.

The student looked flabbergasted. "Uh, Sadie Baldock."

"Very nice to meet you," Luna said. "I hope you live through this."

Sadie's face became consternated, as she wasn't quite sure how to take this. She swallowed and settled for, "Yeah, you too."

As Luna moved on to another student, a few others got up and mingled with other students, just exchanging names mostly. Some of the younger students were asking older ones about writing to each other over the summer.

Shea watched this all with a smile, and he thought maybe it would all be okay. Not good, not great, but okay.

Parvati moved from where she sat by Lavender—who she'd told about the club and her sexuality but not her crush—and joined Shea at the front of the classroom. Lavender turned and started chatting with Dean and Padma. She'd hardly left Parvati's side since the news of Dumbledore's death, and especially since this morning when a letter from the Patils announced that Parvati and Padma would be going home tomorrow.

"I think they'll be okay," Parvati said, echoing his thoughts.

"Me too," he said, then looked at her. "Ye know ye're me second-best best friend, right?"

She laughed. "You're mine, too."

They grinned at each other, then Shea took in a deep breath. "If anything happens to me, can ye take care of them?"

She narrowed her dark eyes at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Just, I feel like it might get really bad," Shea whispered. "People went on the run last time."

"And you think you might have to?"

"Possibly. Obviously muggle-borns are at the top of his list, but I don't think they'll be fond of a half-blood gay transgender person either," Shea said. "I'm too visible. They might go after me to get to the rest of them." He gestured to the rest of the members, who were talking quietly among themselves.

Parvati nodded slowly. "I understand. I'll be there for them if you can't be."

"Thanks, Par," he said, reaching out and squeezing her hand.

HPHPHP

_[content warning: mention of possible deadnaming]_

In the morning, Parvati shared a tearful goodbye with Lavender. Mr. and Mrs. Patil were standing in the doorway of the Great Hall, watching their daughters bid their classmates farewell. Their faces were tight and drawn, matching the expressions the professors had been wearing all week.

"You'll be coming back next year, right?" Lavender asked.

"I think so," Parvati replied, pressing her face into Lavender's hair.

They clung to each other for several more moments, then Parvati finally peeled herself away. She turned to Shea, and he stood up to hug her.

"Write to me this summer?" she asked.

"Of course," he answered, hugging her tightly.

Parvati released him and smiled, then hugged Dean and Neville. Lavender hiccuped, tears still streaming down her round cheeks. Parvati turned to her again, and they embraced once more. Padma appeared beside them, but Parvati didn't move until Padma touched her arm. Her and Lavender released each other, fingertips clinging to each other until they had to separate.

Lavender watched the twins go arm in arm, Parvati shooting looks over her shoulder as they went. Seamus reached out and rubbed Lavender's back in what he hoped was a soothing way. Only when the Patils were out of sight did she sit back down, shoving her breakfast plate away from her and slumping onto the table.

The silence at the table was heavy. Nobody knew quite what to say to Lavender, and nobody knew what to say to anybody else either. Thankfully the owl post arrived at just that moment. A familiar long-eared owl swooped down and dropped a letter in front of Shea before taking roost on his shoulder.

Shea tore into the letter, scanning the few lines again and again to make sure he was understanding it right.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"Me mam's coming tomorrow," he said. "She's goin' to take me home."

They were silent as they processed what this meant. Shea was frozen down to his core. Not only had Hogwarts been invaded by Death Eaters, but it was about to be invaded by his mother. His mother was going to enter the space where he'd almost always been Shea, and she would call him Siobhan.

The owl, Boxty, nipped at his ear, and he shook her off. She squawked at him and flew away, allowing her talons to dig into his shoulder a little roughly as she took off.

"Are you going to go?" Neville asked.

"I don't know," Shea said, staring at his porridge. Lavender, her head still in her arms, reached out and put her hand over his.

HPHPHP

_[content warning: misgendering, transphobia, deadnaming, parent-child confrontation, coming out]_

Shea spent the rest of the day lost in his thoughts, so it was a good thing the teachers were just going through the motions with their lessons. Most of them just told them to read a chapter of their textbooks or allowed them to do what they wanted so long as it was quiet.

That evening, he stood in the dormitory staring at the clothes he always stuffed in the bottom of his trunk: the outfit he wore when his mam dropped him off for school and the outfit he'd wear when she picked him up. The idea of wearing those clothes in front of everyone made him sick to his stomach. He could wear his Hogwarts uniform, maybe borrow a skirt from Lavender or Hermione, but that made him queasy as well.

"It'll be okay," Dean said after a long silence.

"Will it?" Shea whispered. Dean didn't reply, seeming to understand Shea was talking about more than the dilemma with his mother.

In the morning, Shea still wasn't quite sure what he was going to do. He stood before his trunk again, still wrestling with his thoughts, but then he thought of everyone in his club—in his community—and what they would think. He couldn't call himself a leader and talk about courage and being proud of who you were just to roll over the minute his mother came around. What kind of example would that be?

He pulled out his clothes, closed his trunk, and went to change in the bathroom. Dean was up and dressed by the time he was out. He looked Shea up and down and nodded approvingly.

"Alright, let's go face your mother," Dean said.

Shea looked down at himself once more, at the male Hogwarts uniform he was wearing, and then nodded. They walked down the stairs and out through the portrait hole. Shea's steps got slower as they approached the Great Hall, and he felt his breathing pick up in pace. He wasn't sure when exactly his mother would arrive, but her letter said the morning.

Suddenly, a hand enveloped his, and he looked at Dean, who smiled shyly down at him. Dean squeezed his hand, and Shea squeezed back. He expected Dean to let go then, but he hung on for a little longer. Shea's cheeks were flaming by the time he did let go. He wanted to ask why, wanted to hope, but he didn't let himself. He couldn't. Not with—

"Siobhan!"

His heart leapt up into his throat at the familiar, booming voice of his mother. She stood in the middle of the Entrance Hall, waving at him. Her robes were heavy and black, and on her head she wore a black netted pillbox hat. Students gave her a wide berth, and McGonagall stood by her side, having likely escorted her from the front gates.

"Siobhan, dear, let's go," she said impatiently. Shea and Dean had frozen at the top of the stairs. Students were staring at him with wide eyes. Some Slytherins were smirking and nudging each other.

"Shea," Dean whispered, reaching out and briefly wrapping his fingers around Shea's wrist. For a fleeting moment, Shea wished Dean would hold his hand again, but he shook it off. He walked resolutely down the stairs, one step after another, grateful for Dean's presence behind him.

"Where is your trunk? And what on earth are you wearing?" Mrs. Finnigan asked once she caught sight of his slacks. "The girls are supposed to wear skirts under their robes." She turned to McGonagall, as if expecting her to reprimand Shea, but the professor took a sudden interest in directing the students into the Great Hall. "Siobhan, you've taken this tomboy nonsense too far. You hardly even look like a girl anymore."

"I know," Shea said. "And that's because I'm not one."

"What? That's ridiculous. I know what I gave birth to, and I gave birth to a girl," Mrs. Finnigan replied with a roll of her eyes. "Now come on, let's go home."

"No," Shea said. "I'm staying. I want to stay for the funeral."

"Siobhan—"

"Me name is Seamus," he said, earning a surprised look from both Dean and McGonagall, "and I am a boy. Physically, you gave birth to a girl, but I'm a boy. I've been living at Hogwarts as a boy since first year."

Mrs. Finnigan's expression became steely, and she spared a glance at McGonagall, who was watching Shea attentively, before focusing back on her child.

"Almost everyone here supports me and loves me for who I am, which is a boy. And I'm not alone. There are others like me. I'm not strange or unnatural, I'm just different, and I'm not ashamed of it."

A crowd had started to gather, surrounding the feuding Finnigans. Mrs. Finnigan looked nervously about, her face flushed with embarrassment.

"We are not havin' this discussion," she said. "We will go home and forget this nonsense, and—"

"It's not nonsense!" Shea roared. "It's who I am!"

Mrs. Finnigan drew herself up to her full, imposing height. "Young lady—"

"Man," Shea interjected, his stomach doing flips.

"—ye will not speak to me in that tone of voice," she said angrily. "I am taking ye home, and we will discuss yer… _feelings_ later."

"There's nothing to discuss, Mam," Shea said. "And I'm not going home."

"If ye don't come home right now, then ye're not coming home again until you apologize and drop this," she threatened.

Shea's heart stopped for a moment. His mother's mouth was pressed into a thin line, her eyes hard and unyielding. He knew when she was like this that there was no getting her to back down. Still, there was no way he could back down either.

"Fine," he said. "I can't live pretending to be yer daughter anymore. If you can't accept me as yer son, then I won't go home ever again."

Mrs. Finnigan's nostrils flared, and he thought he detected a slight waver behind her anger, but she just said, "Fine. If that's how ye want it to be. If ye want to be selfish and tear this family apart in these dark times, then so be it."

Shea shook his head. "Be safe, mam." He turned to head into the Great Hall and paused, turning his head to look at her. "Oh, also, 'm gay."

He caught one look of her flabbergasted expression before turning and walking away. Some of the students cheered and clapped as the crowd around them dispersed, sensing that the show was over.

"Mrs. Finnigan, would you like me to escort you back to the gates?" he heard McGonagall ask.

"Oh, I'll tell ye what I'd…" his mother's angry voice retorted as she left.

His mind was buzzing as he tried to process what just happened. Various Gryffindors thumped him on the back as he found a seat along the table. Dean watched him with concern, putting a hand on his back.

"Shea?" he said softly.

He looked up. "Did that just happen?"

"Yeah, it did, and it was bloody amazing," Dean said, a wide grin breaking across his face. "I can't believe you did that. You really stuck it to her."

"Oh, Godric, I can't believe it," he muttered, putting his head in his hands. "She's never goin' to forgive me."

"It'll take a while. She's as stubborn as you, but I think she will," he said. "We're on the verge of a war, after all. It's not the time to be casting family members out."

"Oh, where am I going to _live?_ " he wondered aloud. He supposed he could turn to Parvati, but she'd just left, and that would make getting to her home somewhat difficult. Lavender, maybe, or Hermione. Even Neville. But all of this involved coming out to his friends' parents, and he didn't know—

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, looking confused.

"Me mam just kicked me out. Ye were there, remember?" Shea said dryly.

"I remember. But you have a place to stay: with me."

Shea stared at him. "I can't do that to ye. Yer home is cramped already, what with yer sisters and yer parents."

"They'll be happy to have you. They've wanted to meet you for six years now," he said.

"Are ye sure? Will they be okay with…with me?"

Dean looked sheepish. "Ah, they already know."

Shea frowned at him.

"I didn't tell! My mum guessed it," he said. "Summer after first year, I checked out some books from the library about being transgender. She found them and asked if I was trans, and I explained it was a friend, and then she guessed it was you."

"Oh."

"They're fine with it, I promise," Dean insisted. "They really want to meet you."

"Well, I guess I don't have another choice," Shea said with a theatrical sigh.

Dean laughed reached out, mussing Shea's hair. They grinned at each other, and Shea felt his heart flutter. His mother had abandoned him, Dumbledore was dead, but at least he always had Dean.

"So…Seamus?" Dean said after a moment.

He looked up and then blushed. "Ah, yeah, that just slipped out."

"Do you want that to be your name?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while now. Goes with Shea, y'know? I just didn't know when to start using it, or how to tell people."

"I like it." Dean reached out and tilted Shea's head up, causing butterflies to erupt in his stomach. "Seamus Finnigan."

It had never sounded as good in his head as it did coming from Dean's lips.


	16. Chapter 16

Adjusting to life at the Thomas' didn't take too long. Mr. and Mrs. Thomas accepted him with open arms and zero hesitation. Dean's three younger sisters were energetic but kind, and the youngest, Michelle, took to him almost immediately.

Seamus slept on the floor in Dean's room on a wonderful thing called an 'air mattress,' but it had to be loudly refilled with air every evening. Beth, the oldest sister, laughed when Seamus asked her to explain how the air pump worked. She was quite smart and explained in great detail, but almost all of it went right over his head. Renee spun a story about little birds who lived in the pump and flapped their wings hard enough to fill the bed, which Shea believed for a moment before Dean told her to quit messing with him.

When they got to King's Cross Station, Seamus'd had a moment of panic thinking his mother might be waiting on the platform to drag him home by force, but she hadn't been there. He didn't quite know how to feel about that, but he didn't dwell on it. How could he, when Dean had held his hand the whole train ride?

The hand-holding had happened quite a few times since the morning of his mother's arrival, and Seamus wasn't quite sure what to make of it. They didn't talk about it. It just happened sometimes during tense moments, like when they read the Daily Prophet, or at night when they had trouble sleeping, or after Seamus had sent a note to his mother to let her know he had a safe place to stay.

A knot that Seamus hadn't known existed began to ease up in his chest. Between casual days at home and quick trips out, discovering all sorts of Muggle things like movies and refrigerators, and Dean's calming presence, Seamus realized he finally had an idea of what his life could be like in the real world. What his life with Dean could be like.

His time at Hogwarts had been—for the most part—amazing, having the freedom away from his mam and the support of his friends to explore who he was and help others do the same. Amazing, yes, but it was an isolated bubble away from the rest of the world. He'd never been able to truly be Seamus outside of Hogwarts until now.

Of course, the Thomas household was a kind of bubble too. They'd been keeping an eye on the wizarding world through the Daily Prophet, which, although not the most reliable or honest news source, would at least tell them what they needed to know. For most of the summer, things were quiet, which led them into a false sense of security. They began thinking about the next school year, about the school supply list that would be sent out soon.

Then everything changed toward the end of the summer.

It all happened so quick, rapid fire headlines in a matter of days

_Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour Dead, Replaced by Pius Thicknesse!_

_Harry Potter Pursued as POI in the Murder of Albus Dumbledore and Other Criminal Acts_

_Severus Snape Appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts_

_Announcing the New Muggle-Born Registration Commission, Headed by Dolores Jane Umbridge_

_Hogwarts Attendance Now Mandatory For All_

Although all the news was equally terrible—especially the news of various homes being ransacked and burned under the guise of reason to suspect fugitives and lawbreaking—the news of the Commission was most disturbing to them. All muggle-borns were 'invited' to present themselves before the Commission so it could be discovered how the muggle-born came to acquire magic. Anyone who didn't present voluntarily would be tracked down. Dean and Seamus suspected the new mandatory attendance was to try to weed muggle-borns out of Hogwarts.

"It's time, isn't it?" Shea whispered, folding the newspaper one August morning.

Dean nodded solemnly. They decided not to send notes to their friends; the risk of interception was too great, and they didn't want to give this sham of a government any reason to suspect their friends of knowing anything about their whereabouts. They packed quickly, only gathering the essentials. Then Dean went to tell his family, and Seamus let them have their privacy.

When Dean came back into his bedroom, he changed quickly into his pajamas and sat at the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. Silent sobs gently shook his shoulders. Seamus not-so-gracefully got up from the air mattress and went to him, wrapping his arms around Dean's wide frame. Dean turned, stretching his legs over Shea's lap and crying into his neck.

They sat like that until Seamus' body got stiff and his muscles ached, but he didn't dare move. Eventually Dean calmed down and rubbed at his eyes.

"We should get some sleep. We'll have to leave early," he said, getting up from the bed to turn out the lights.

Seamus got off the bed and started for the air mattress, but Dean caught his hand. Seamus looked at him, their eyes meeting in the dim darkness. Dean tugged on his hand, gently pulling him to the bed.

"Can we?" he asked.

"Sure," Seamus said.

Dean lifted the blankets, and they crawled in together. They shifted around awkwardly, knocking elbows and knees against limbs and ribs, until they found a position that was comfortable. Seamus' heart pounded, aware of how Dean's body felt—smooth, muscular, strong—and how his own must have felt in comparison. But Dean's arms were around him in a way that he'd never dreamed, so he didn't allow himself to over think it. With Dean's heartbeat in his ears, he dropped off into a shallow sleep.

In the hours before dawn, they departed, hand in hand, with no aim but to get out of London.

HPHPHP

_[content warning: internalized transphobia]_

Almost two weeks later, they were hungrier and more tired than they'd ever thought possible. They'd been traversing the countryside, hoping to find a place to lay low, but they were too jumpy and didn't trust anywhere. Night was the best time to travel without being seen, but it was harder to know where they were going, and in the day they felt too exposed to hunker down and rest. They were practically dead on their feet.

"We're almost out of rations," Dean said.

"Cities are too dangerous," Seamus maintained.

"Restaurants throw out a ton of food, it'll be really easy."

"Dumpster food?" Seamus wrinkled his nose.

"It's not like we've got much of a choice," Dean replied tiredly. "We don't know how to fish or forage. We could try stealing from a farm, I suppose. That'll be fresh stuff."

They consulted a map and saw some farmland not too far from where they thought they were. It took a day longer than they expected, but they finally rounded a hill and saw the farm before them. Seamus' mouth watered at the sight of the apple trees.

"Let's go!" he shouted.

They ran down the grassy hill, feeling giddy for the first time in months. They slipped and fell, laughing and rolling as they went. When they reached the first trees, Seamus clambered onto Dean's back and started straining for the fruit before they remembered they could do magic now that they weren't at Dean's home.

Laughing, they whipped out their wands and began levitating the apples down, biting into the juicy fruit. Moments later they froze at the sound of a _chk-chk_ , and turned to see a farmer man holding a long metal object pointed at them. Seamus didn't know exactly what it was, but he knew enough to be scared of it. Dean was ramrod stiff, his hands high in the air. Shea copied him.

"Do you boys plan on paying for the property you've stolen from me?" the farmer growled out. Then his eyes caught sight of their wands, which they'd stupidly forgotten to stash. To their surprise, the farmer relaxed slightly. "Wizards, eh?"

Seamus didn't relax even as the farmer set the metal object—gun, he remembered—to his side and leaned on it. Dean still kept his hands in the air, and Seamus could feel the tension oozing off of him.

"Why aren't you lot at home?" he asked.

Dean and Seamus exchanged wary looks.

"Right. Stupid question, with things as they are," the man said.

"So, are you…?" Dean asked.

The farmer reached into one of the pockets of his overalls and pulled out a wand. "Yes indeed, son. But just cause we're the same kind doesn't mean I give my produce away for free, especially to runaways."

"We could do some work," Dean offered.

The farmer eyed them. "You're of age, I suspect?"

They nodded fervently, and Dean finally lowered his hands.

"Alright, lads, I suppose I could use the help. Follow me." The farmer waved his wand, and all the apples they'd picked flew behind him as he walked. They had no choice but to follow.

The farmer informed them that his name was Mr. Taylor, and that he'd been managing the farm by himself for eight years since his wife died. She was a Muggle and died of something called breast cancer. Now he kept mostly to himself, doing some small trade with the local towns.

"I don't get many visitors," Mr. Taylor said. "By the way, if you ever plan on robbing more farms—something I don't encourage, by the way—you might not want to run hollering down a hill the farmer can see from his living room window."

Seamus blushed, and Dean looked chagrined.

He set them to work in the pig pen replacing the wood shavings with straw in preparation for winter. Once they finished with that, he got them working on the chicken coop, gathering crops that were ready, cleaning various parts of the barn and house, and other work. Despite the fact that they got most work done fairly quickly with magic, they were still dead tired and were completely exhausted by the time Mr. Taylor let them stop.

Mr. Taylor invited them inside, and he whipped up a supper for them, which Dean and Seamus tore into hungrily. Seamus didn't think anything had ever tasted so good to him, even his mam's oatmeal cake.

"It's been nice having company," Mr. Taylor said.

"We're really sorry about earlier," Dean told him.

"I understand," the farmer replied, glancing out the window at the almost set sun. "Times is hard."

Seamus reached for another roll and tore it open just as a _crack_ sounded from outside.

"What was that?" Dean asked, looking out the window.

"Sounded like Apparition," Seamus said. They were both suddenly tense.

"Nothing to worry about, probably just an autumn storm," Mr. Taylor said loudly, then shoved a basket of apples toward them. "Here, have some more. Couldn't get enough of them earlier, eh?"

They ignored him, squinting out the window until they saw something moving in the shadows.

"There's people out there!" Dean shouted. He grabbed Seamus' arm, and they began to tear out of the room. The dining room door slammed closed and wouldn't budge. They turned on the farmer.

"You called the Death Eaters?" Seamus asked.

Mr. Taylor shivered at the name. "No, no, the Snatchers. They're just gonna make sure you go back to school in September, where you belong."

"You sold us out!" Dean shouted, shaking with anger.

"Times is hard, like I said!" Mrs. Taylor shouted back.

Seamus opened his mouth to shout back when he heard cajoling laughter getting closer. Cold swept through his body, and he tightened his grip on his wand.

" _Stupefy!_ " Dean shouted suddenly, and the man promptly fell over.

Seamus tried the door, and it gave way this time. He was greeted by the sight of three greasy witches with big, ugly sneers on their faces.

"How's about you make this easy and just come with us, eh?" said the tallest witch.

" _Reducto!_ " Dean shouted. The witch in front put up a shield just in time, but it gave them enough time to start running for the back door.

"No you don't! _Petrificus Totalus!_ "

" _Protego! Protego! Protego!_ " Seamus shouted as they ran. " _Colloportus!_ "

The back door sealed behind them, but Shea knew it wouldn't hold for long. Panic made his vision blur, and he stumbled over his feet. Dean was keeping pace beside him, but Seamus knew they wouldn't be able to outrun the so-called Snatchers, and there was no way they could take on three adult witches.

" _Crucio!_ " one of the Snatchers shouted.

Seamus had a brief flashback to fourth year, when "Professor Moody" had tested the torture curse on all of them. He dove to the ground, tackling Dean as he went. They felt the curse zoom harmlessly over them, then they scrambled back to their feet.

" _Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus!_ " Dean shouted. He heard one exasperated shout but had to immediately block another curse.

"We have to Apparate," Seamus gasped out. "It's the only way."

"But we never passed! _Protego!_ "

"We have to try!"

"Where?!"

Seamus thought wildly for a moment. It would have to be a place they both knew, that they could picture, but it couldn't be Diagon Alley or Hogwarts or the Thomas'. Where? Where could they go?

"The nice place!" Shea shouted. "Three nights ago, go to the nice place!"

He looked at Dean for a moment, willing him to understand, hoping he remembered the hill where they'd rested a few days ago. The sunset had been brilliant that night, tinting the valley gold, and Dean had said it was a nice place. He'd looked at Dean for a moment too long, though, because a reductor curse caught him on his outstretched arm and he cried out in pain.

"Shea! _Protego!_ " Dean shouted.

"Go, Dean, go!" he yelled back through his teeth, clutching his bleeding arm.

Dean gave him a pained look, then closed his eyes, and then _pop_ —he was gone. Shea looked at the approaching Snatchers, who bore ravenous, furious looks.

" _Repulso!_ " he shouted, summoning all his might. One of them flew back, knocking another over, and the third stumbled. It would have to be good enough. He closed his eyes, picturing that sunset and Dean's expression of calm as he sat on that grassy hill, and turned.

The sensation was suffocating. He felt like he was being liquefied and then put back together again in rapid time. In a moment, though, he hit the ground and saw the valley they'd been looking at two days ago. It was dark, since the sun had already set, but it was still there.

"Dean? Dean?!" he called, turning wildly.

Dean caught him before Shea saw him, running smack into Dean's broad chest.

"Are you okay? Did you splinch?" Dean asked, patting him all over.

"I'm fine, I think. It's just me—" Seamus hissed as he tried to raise his arm.

Dean all but shoved him to the ground and tore the rest of Seamus' sleeve off. He pulled out his water bottle and poured the contents over the gashes in Seamus' arm until the water no longer ran red. Dean tied the torn-off sleeve around Seamus' arm right below the shoulder.

"This'll have to do," Dean said. "I don't—we don't have any potion, any…We're not equipped for this."

"It'll be okay," Seamus said. "We're alive. It'll be okay."

"I can't go through that again," Dean whispered, patting Seamus down again as if looking for more injuries. "I can't see you hurt. I…I can't lose you," he breathed, his hands sliding up Seamus' cheeks. He pressed their foreheads together, breath mingling between them. Seamus felt Dean's lips loom closer, and his heart all but stopped.

Dean suddenly pulled away, leaning back on his heels and pressing the back of his shaking hand to his mouth. Seamus stared at him open-mouthed, dizzy and shocked and disappointed.

"I'm sorry," Dean said.

The words registered dimly in Seamus' mind as he tried to clear the Dean- and pain-induced fog from his senses.

"Were ye about to kiss me?" Seamus asked quietly.

Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I was. And I'm sorry."

"Why?" Seamus asked, drawing closer. "D'ye…are ye…"

"I love you, Shea," Dean confessed brokenly. "I think I've always loved you. But I know—"

Seamus reached out with his good arm and pulled him down into a searing kiss. Dean's arms wrapped tightly around him as he responded with enthusiasm. Their mouths slid together and apart and together again. They were lost to exploring each other, to exploring the heat that filled them from the inside out. If Seamus hadn't hissed in pain from trying to raise his arm to pull Dean in tighter, they might never have stopped.

They knelt like that, panting into each other's mouths, foreheads still pressed tightly together. Seamus was trying to process the kiss, trying to reconcile what he knew with what he felt and what just happened. It was his wildest dream come true—aside from the injured arm and being on the run and all.

Dean was the first to recover his faculties of speech. "I thought you didn't—You said you didn't like me!" he accused.

"I lied," Seamus replied.

"What? Why?!"

"Ye were datin' Ginny!" Seamus retorted. "I'd just realized I was gay and in love with ye, and we'd been so distant I was scared of losin' ye, I didn't—"

Dean grabbed his face and kissed him again. Tears welled in Seamus' eyes and spilled over, and Dean's long fingers gently brushed them away. He pulled away, embarrassed, but saw that Dean was crying too. They collapsed then, falling to the ground, consumed with exhaustion and grief and love. Sobs racked and shook their bodies until there were no more tears left to cry and they shook only because of the cold.

"When did you realize?" Dean asked.

"Parvati and I were talking about how we missed our best friends," Seamus said, staring up at the stars. "We realized we were jealous, and that it went beyond missing ye as friends." After a moment, he asked, "How about ye?"

Dean let out a long breath. "I had an inkling when Ginny and I first started dating, because it was a lot like being around you. I shrugged it off though, since just we're so close. Then, Ginny said something once about how I was a more attentive boyfriend to you than her sometimes, but I didn't really think about it until after we broke up.

"But I knew I had liked Ginny, I knew I'd had a crush on Parvati, so I knew I liked girls. But I still felt something for you, something big. Then I went to your meeting, and Parvati said that thing about liking both, and…I dunno, I felt like a door had opened."

Seamus was silent for a long time. The Terrible Thought had returned, the one he hadn't entertained since fourth year when it had almost destroyed their friendship.

"Dean?" he whispered.

"Hm?"

"Do…do ye think, maybe, ye like me cause I was a girl first? Does that make it easier?" His voice trembled with fear.

Dean's arms tightened around him, and Seamus felt him open and close his mouth several times but nothing came out. The Terrible Thought turned and roiled around in his stomach and wrapped its horrid fist around his heart, crushing it slowly.

"I know you've always been scared of that," Dean began, his voice soft and tender. "I know you probably will be for the rest of our lives. And that's why I will tell you, whenever you need to hear it, that I love you for exactly who you are.

"Nothing about this is easy. We both know that. I've always seen you as a boy, but more than that I've always seen you as Shea. Your body is just something that houses your amazing spirit. It doesn't matter to me. I love _you_ , Seamus Finnigan."

Seamus' heart felt fit to burst. He pressed his face into Dean's chest, unable to keep the smile off his face. "I love ye too, Dean Thomas."


	17. Chapter 17

In the morning, reality set in on them. They were stranded without their packs, without food, without a map. The only things they had were their wands and the ratty clothing on their backs. They briefly deliberated following the same route they'd taken days before, hoping the Snatchers would move on and not think they'd go back, but they couldn't take that risk. They never wanted to see Taylor's farm again.

They decided to go backwards instead. They'd been heading in a somewhat northeastern direction, aiming loosely for Cambridge. Now they turned back toward London, but they wouldn't go back that far.

"Our first priority is getting you to an urgent care," Dean said. "Some of them donate services to homeless, so we'll need to find you one of those."

"A Muggle doctor?" Seamus said, wrinkling his nose. "They'll stick me with needles!"

"We don't have another choice," Dean replied. "And Muggle medicine really does work. It's just not quite as effective."

Seamus sighed but smiled when Dean's hand found his. There was a long, uphill battle ahead of them, and Seamus was honestly worried about their ability to make it. It was getting steadily colder, and it would probably start snowing in about a month.

"We're going to have to steal," Dean said glumly. "Coats, sleeping bags, food, maybe even some money. It's not ideal, but—"

"We have to survive," Seamus finished, looking up at him. "I know."

Dean smiled. "I don't know if I could've done this without you."

"Ah, ye'd've been alright," Seamus said with a grin.

They got Seamus stitched up that day, which gave him a whole new appreciation for Madam Pomfrey. It also gave him a new appreciation for Muggle world, and for Dean. He'd never given much thought to the fact that Dean lived in two different worlds, but seeing him navigate the Muggle world was incredible. He easily lied to the doctor, saying they'd gotten in a knife fight, and then got them directions to the local soup kitchen for a warm meal.

"It's nothing," Dean said when Seamus told him how amazing he found it all. "It's just normal to me."

After inhaling their portions of bread and soup, they wondered what to do next. They considered sitting out on the street and begging, but that felt like sitting and waiting for Snatchers to find them, so they decided to go to the outskirts of town and waiting until nightfall there.

They were just about to leave when a woman approached them. "How old's you boys?"

"Eighteen," Dean lied, and Seamus remembered that was the legal age for Muggles.

"D'you have anythin'?"

Dean and Seamus looked at each other and shook their heads. She clicked her tongue and began rummaging around in the pockets of her overcoat. She extended her hand, which was clad in a grimy glove, and Seamus saw there was money in it.

"Oh, no, you need—"

"I can get more. You boys're young. Get back on yah feet while you can, eh?" she said, setting the few notes and coins on the table when they didn't take it.

"Th-thank you," Dean stuttered.

"And you keep that arm clean. Infection's the last thing you need," she commanded Seamus, nodding at his bandages. Then she patted their shoulders and moved past them.

Dean rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and Seamus squeezed his hand.

That night they stole two sleeping bags, a tent, and a map from a camping store. It was quick and quiet thanks to magic, but they broke the door to make it look like Muggles did it and left a couple coins on the counter when they were done. They didn't want to draw any Snatchers' attention with unusual break-ins, which was also why they left the town that night.

For two and a half months they lived like that: utilizing the resources they could in a town, never staying more than a few days, and always leaving after stealing. They tried not to steal as much as they could, mostly going for things that were thrown out, but there were some things they needed that wouldn't be easily found in a dumpster, like winter coats. It wasn't living, but it was surviving, and that was the priority.

A couple of times, they saw what they thought were gangs of Snatchers or Death Eaters: people walking in long, black robes that would be considered casual in the wizarding world but stuck out in the Muggle world. They cleared out of town fast after those sightings.

Even though they'd successfully Apparated to the grassy hill when escaping the Snatchers, they still didn't trust their abilities enough to travel that way. They'd gotten used to travelling, though, and could more accurately estimate their travel time between cities and usually managed to get enough food to tide them over. They camped by rivers and in forests, occasionally finding abandoned structures in the woods.

The snow and cold were brutal. A few times they thought their extremities would fall off. They were grateful that _incendio_ was one of the first spells they'd ever learned, or they might've died a month ago. Despite all this, all the weather and hunger and danger, the hardest part was the isolation. They had absolutely no idea what was happening in the wizarding world, in Hogwarts, to their friends, to others on the run. Occasionally they'd hear a bit of news that seemed odd—a sudden disappearance, an unusual death, homes burned to the ground—that let them know the world still wasn't safe, but they didn't have a clue beyond that. They didn't know who was winning, who was still alive, if anybody was still fighting...

They didn't have much time to dwell on that, though. All they could do was focus on living in the moment, surviving long enough to see the next sunrise. The question was, how many sunrises did they have left?

"This isn't sustainable," Seamus said one day, breaking a days-long silence between them.

Dean looked around the tent city they were staying at for the night, checking to make sure nobody was too close to them. "What do you mean?" he asked in a low voice.

"I mean this—travelling cross-country, always on the move, camping in the snow." He shivered hard. "How long d'ye think we can keep this up? We've been at it for four months. This war could last years."

"We're doing fine," Dean replied.

"For now," Seamus said, "but it can't continue forever. The Death Eaters are gettin' stronger, the Snatchers more desperate. Sooner or later we'll make a mistake."

Dean frowned. "We have a system. We haven't gotten in trouble since Taylor's farm."

"We've gotten close."

"Then what do you think we should do?"

Seamus stood and paced slightly. "Maybe we could find a place to lay low, or leave the—"

"Shea, we talked about this," Dean said tiredly. "All the places worth laying low don't have supplies, and we can't leave the country without paperwork."

"We could just Confund—"

"No," Dean said. "We just keep doing what we're doing. If we're safe, the Death Eaters and Snatchers won't find us."

"Excuse me."

They whipped around at the voice that was suddenly close to them. Dean surreptitiously slipped his hand into his bag, wrapping his fingers around the hilt of his wand. The man smiled at them, his cheeks dirty and his face slightly drawn.

"You might want to keep your voice down when talking about that lot," he advised.

"Who are you?" Seamus asked. He patted his pants pockets but found them empty.

The man raised his hands. "No need for wands," he murmured, then pulled the left sleeve of his jacket back, showing his bare forearm. "There. Now your turn."

Dean and Seamus exchanged a look, then pulled their sleeves back as well. The man smiled and nodded.

"See? All friends here. Might I sit with you?"

Dean nodded stiffly. "Just for a moment."

The man sat near them, but at a slight distance. Seamus sat back down next to Dean and grabbed his wand from his other jacket and held it tightly at his side. The man watched them, his eyes sad.

"You're Hogwarts-age, eh?" he asked.

They didn't answer. Dean's skin was crawling, remembering the last time they trusted an adult. Seamus reached out and took his hand, and Dean knew he was remembering too.

"I'm sorry, lads, I'm being rude. I'm Ted, Ted Tonks. I'm Muggle-born, and I suppose you are too?" he asked.

Dean glanced at Seamus and then gave Ted a nod.

Seamus cocked his head to the side. "Wait, Tonks? Isn't there an Auror named Tonks? She patrolled Hogwarts last year."

"Dora!" Ted said warmly. "Yes, my daughter."

"I'm Dean, this is Seamus," he introduced. "So you've been on the run, too?"

"Since June. Once Dumbledore died, I knew it was a matter of time. Didn't want to hang around and cause trouble for my family, being Muggle-born and all," he explained. "I've run into some other groups, but you're the first kids I've seen. What about you?"

Seamus' face turned dark. "Once. Didn't work out well."

"Oh. I'm sorry for your loss," Ted said, misunderstanding. "You've been on your own, just the two of you?"

"Yeah, problem?" Seamus challenged.

Ted raised his hands again. "No, I'm impressed. Plenty older than you've been caught already."

"Do…do you know what's happening out there?" Dean asked.

"Have you not been listening to _Potterwatch_?" Ted sounded surprised, but they had no idea what he was talking about.

"Potter- _what?_ " Seamus asked, wondering what Harry had gotten himself into this time.

"Rebel radio broadcast," Ted replied. "Dunno who runs it, they use codenames, but they give updates on what's happening. Just need a radio and the password. The next one's password is Dearborn."

Seamus and Dean felt hope in their chests for the first time since before they left London. They only news they'd gleaned from the happenings was bad and hinted at the Death Eaters winning.

"What information do they give?" Seamus asked eagerly.

"Names of Death Eaters and sympathizers, people confirmed dead, tips on surviving, that sort of thing," Ted answered. "Oh, also a Taboo curse has been placed on You-Know-Who's name. Snatchers are alerted to the location of anyone who says it, so, y'know, don't."

"Right," Dean said, nodding.

"Any news of Harry?" Seamus asked.

"A few rumors, but nothing major. I think that's good, means he's still out there," Ted responded. "D'you know him?"

"We're his dormmates," Dean replied.

" _Potterwatch_ says to help him if we see him." Ted smiled. "It's great actually talking about this. Weird in the Muggle world, eh? As if everything's almost normal."

Dean and Seamus nodded in agreement. The suffocating isolation they'd felt for months now was somewhat eased. If only they could get their hands on a radio to listen to _Potterwatch_ , they'd be set.

"You taking off in the morning?" Ted asked.

"Yeah, south. You?"

"South as well."

Dean looked at Seamus, who pursed his lips for a moment, then shrugged. If he was Muggle-born, his daughter was an Auror, and he was listening to an illegal broadcast, he probably wouldn't summon Snatchers to grab them. And having an adult—a real adult—along couldn't hurt.

"Want to travel together?" Dean asked. "Just for a little bit."

Ted smiled brightly. "I'd be honored."


	18. Chapter 18

Travelling with a companion turned out to be better than Dean and Seamus could've imagined. Ted knew way more protective and survival spells than they did, and he had a good amount of Muggle money on him. They stayed informed with _Potterwatch_ and stayed on the move.

The snow and cold began to ease up as they left February behind them, which made travelling easier. They soon ran into Dirk Cresswell, who Ted knew from some Ministry encounters, and a couple of goblins. They were all heading east, and so they decided to travel together for the next week.

Dirk was a bit surly, and the goblins were distrustful of Dean, Seamus, and Ted, but they got along well enough to survive. Dean was actually less bothered by the goblins than he was by Dirk. Every now and then he caught the man staring at him with a calculating expression, and this bothered him to his core.

"Just ignore him," Seamus murmured to him one night, his head on Dean's chest, huddled together in the sleeping bags they'd zippered together.

"I'm trying to, but I just don't know what his problem is," Dean whispered back. "I think he might be racist. That's the only thing I can figure."

"Well, we won't have to travel with them much longer," Seamus replied, lifting his head to look at Dean. "If he says anything, I'll jinx him."

Dean gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"D'ye want to talk to Ted in the morning?" Seamus asked. "We could split ways early."

"Nah, I'll deal with it," Dean replied, sounding tired. "I've been dealing with it my whole life."

Seamus frowned sadly, wishing there was something he could do. But just like Dean couldn't make people accept Seamus' gender, Seamus couldn't make people accept Dean's skin color. There was just too much hate in the world, especially now.

In the morning, though, Dean found he couldn't take another one of Dirk's strange gazes. The man was casting inquisitive glances at him as they ate beans out of cans the next morning. Dean threw his empty can to the ground and glared at Dirk.

"D'you have a problem?" he asked.

Dirk frowned. "I don't—"

"You keep staring at me," Dean snapped, "and I'm sick of it. So what's the problem?"

"Now, now," Ted said soothingly. Dean glared at him.

Dirk sighed. "I didn't mean no offense, son. You looked familiar when we met, and I've been trying to place you."

A muscle flexed in Dean's jaw. "I've never met you."

"I know, but I swear you're the spitting image of a buddy of mine from my early Ministry days. Roger Harris. Wrote political columns for the Prophet before settling down with a Muggle woman."

Dean relaxed just slightly. "Well I don't know who he is."

"Of course you don't, he's dead."

There was a length pause. Dean was still tense, and Dirk was staring at the ground with a pinched expression. Ted and Seamus exchanged a look, then watched the pair again.

"I'm sorry," Dean said. "What happened?"

"The war started, and he disappeared and left his pregnant wife behind. He was found dead a week later. Rumor was that Death Eaters wanted him to join up cause he was pureblood."

"The Death Eaters didn't kill his wife?" Dean asked.

"I imagine they tried but couldn't find her. Roger was very protective of her, even before everything started. That's why he quit the Prophet, to live in the Muggle world with her," Dirk replied. "I only ever knew her first name: Abigail."

Dean inhaled sharply, staring at Dirk with wide eyes. Seamus was staring as well, his gaze switching back and forth between Dean and Dirk, his mind racing.

"What is it?" Ted asked.

"That's my mother's name," Dean said.

Dirk's eyes widened as he stared back at Dean.

"That's my mother's name," he repeated. "My…my biological father ran out on us before I was born, she said he didn't care, she said he gave up—this…this…"

"It's possible," Ted said gently. "Stranger things have happened."

Dean shoved himself up from the ground and began pacing back and forth, rubbing a hand over his head in agitation. Seamus watched him with a pinched expression, ready if Dean needed him. The goblins were murmuring to each other in malicious tones from where they sat apart from the wizards.

"I don't believe it," Dean said. "It's just a coincidence. I'm...I'm muggle-born, I—"

"I wouldn't believe it either if you didn't look just like him," Dirk insisted.

"My mum said he left us, abandoned us!"

"He probably lied to protect the two of you."

"No, no!" Dean yelled. He was breathing heavily, staring at all of them. "I need a break," he said, then walked away from them.

Seamus set his can of beans down and went after Dean without a word to the others. Tension was set into Dean's broad shoulders as he stalked down the hill toward the Muggle city. Seamus followed Dean from about two meters away, close enough to know where he was but far enough to give him the distance he needed.

Dean kept walking until they reached a small park, and he collapsed onto a bench. Seamus sat cautiously next to Dean, then put his arms around him. Dean was shaking slightly, and Seamus could tell he was making an effort to keep his breaths deep and even.

"What are ye thinking?" Seamus asked calmly.

"I don't even know," Dean replied. "If it's true, then I've spent my whole life hating a man who died to save me and my mum."

"That's not your fault. You didn't know," Seamus said.

"But it changes everything!" Dean exclaimed.

"Does it?" Seamus challenged.

Dean turned to stare at him. "How does it not?!"

"The past is the same," Seamus said. "Ye lived with the knowledge ye had at the time. Ye thought yer biological father abandoned ye. But ye still had a dad, Dean. A dad who loves ye. And three beautiful little sisters too."

Tears filled Dean's eyes, and he quickly swiped at his eyes. Seamus rubbed his shoulders gently.

"Now ye can have closure on that part of yer life. Ye know the truth now," Seamus said.

"You're right," Dean said. "It's just hard to believe."

They sat there in silence and contemplation. Seamus thought of his own father, who he hadn't seen since he was a young child. Briefly, he wondered how his father would react to him being transgender, but figured if the man left them after finding out his wife was a witch, he probably wouldn't come back for a gay, transgender wizard kid.

That made him think of his mam, and the fight they'd had the last time he saw her. There was no way he would let her treat him like her daughter anymore, but he hoped there was a way for her to learn to accept him. Then he remembered her angry, twisted expression when she told him not to come home again, and he lost the little sliver of hope.

"We should probably head back," Dean said, standing up.

Seamus looked around and saw that the sun was up high in the sky. It was already midday, and they'd planned on doing some travelling today.

"You're right," Seamus replied.

Together they walked out of town, holding hands once they were in the cover of the trees. As they navigated back to their campsite, they suddenly got the feeling that something was wrong. There was smoke coming out from the trees in the direction of their campsite, and cold dread filled their chests.

They drew their wands and slowly approached their campsite, clinging to the trees and shrubs and whatever cover they could find. Bile rose in Seamus' throat when the camp came into view. The three tents were ransacked and destroyed. Dirk's body was slumped unnaturally next to the smoldering fire. Ted was a few feet away, his empty eyes staring out at nothing, blood streaming from the corner of his mouth.

A cackle of laughter drew his attention away from his companions' bodies, and his stomach dropped out when he saw four people in long black coats with their wands trained on the two goblins. The goblins were growling and grumbling to each other in their rough tongue, and a Snatcher sent a jinx at one that caused it to howl and claw at its ears. The other goblin lunged at the closest Snatcher.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " the Snatcher snapped, and the goblin dropped to the ground with a merciless _thud_.

"Aw, what'd ya do that for?" another Snatcher asked.

"Ruined all the fun!" cried the Snatcher that cursed the other goblin.

"We can still have fun with this one," the first Snatcher replied.

The four Snatchers approached the goblin in a circle, their wands out, grinning menacingly. Seamus reached out and grabbed Dean's wrist, tugging him gently and nodding his head, indicating that they should escape while they had the chance. They'd have to gather all new supplies, but they'd done it before, they could do it again, just so long as they were still alive.

The goblin let out a cry of pain and fury, and Dean couldn't look away. Seamus tugged at him harder, panic flaring up inside his chest. Dean took a stumbling step back, his foot snapping a twig.

The Snatchers' heads swiveled, and Dean burst through the tree line before Seamus could stop him. " _Expelliarmus!_ " he cried, getting the jump on the closest Snatcher to him. " _Stupefy!_ "

Seamus swore to himself, then joined in the fray. " _Petrificus Totalus!_ " he yelled at another Snatcher, then turned and Stupefied the one that Dean had Disarmed.

" _Crucio!_ " cried the fourth Snatcher. Seamus fell to the ground, convulsing and screaming. Pain laced its way up and down his limbs, lighting a fire in his brain.

" _Stupefy!_ " Dean shouted, and the pain stopped as the Snatcher hit the dirt. Seamus lay, panting, for a long moment, trying to clear the stars from his eyes.

"We have to go. Now," Dean said, pulling Seamus to his feet. Seamus swayed, and Dean held him steady. Dean's face turned to the side, where Seamus was surprised to see the goblin was still there and hadn't run off in the commotion. "Griphook, right?" Dean said. The goblin nodded. "You're welcome to come with us, but we're leaving now."

The goblin nodded again. "You saved me." It wasn't quite a thank you, but there was an odd sort of tone in the goblin's voice.

Dean shrugged. "You'd have done it for us," he said, but Seamus wasn't so sure. He didn't trust the goblin's empty black eyes.

They cast final Full-Body Bind Curses and Stunning Spells on the Snatchers before they ran, only looking back for a moment at their fallen comrades.

HPHPHP

Although it was slowly getting warmer as spring approached, the weather was still difficult to bear. It had been just a week since the ambush on their campsite, and they were too scared to go into town for supplies. Every shadow, every rustle, every creature in the woods could be a Snatcher or a Death Eater. They were barely surviving, trying to hunt and forage for what they could.

"It just feels so hopeless," Seamus muttered. "Like they're getting closer every day."

"I know," Dean said.

"Will we even know when it's over?" he asked. "Or will we still be sitting out here in the woods, living off rabbits and berries?"

"Wizards rise and fall, wars rise and fall. It will all go on," Griphook grumbled.

"Yeah but we might not," Seamus pointed out. "If it's up to me, I'd like to not fall."

"It's not up to you."

Dean and Seamus exchanged a look. What little Griphook said was always grim like this. Seamus frequently wondered if it had been worth it to save the obnoxious little thing and put themselves in danger like they had. It wasn't like he brought much to their group other than his inane mumblings.

"We've got to get some real food, and maybe some jackets," Dean said.

"It's too dangerous," Seamus protested.

"We're sitting ducks either way," Dean replied. "And at this rate we'll be too tired and hungry to travel at all."

Seamus looked at Dean, really looked at him for the first time in months. His cheeks were hollow, and his tattered clothes clung to his skinny frame. The broad shoulders Seamus loved were bony and sunken with exhaustion. Between the cold and the wet and their lack of proper clothing, they almost never stopped shivering.

"Ye're right," Seamus said. "Sometimes…" He sighed. "Sometimes I just wish they'd find us already, that way it'd all be over."

"Hey." Dean's voice was stern. "Don't talk like that. We're going to survive this."

"How do you know?" Seamus asked.

Dean reached over and took his hand, rubbing his thumb over Seamus' dirty knuckles. "I have faith."

Griphook snorted derisively, ruining the moment, but Seamus' chest felt warmer than it had in months.

They decided that one of them would go into town to find a warm meal and the other would try to find some clothing. Griphook insisted that he didn't need anything and continued to munch on the squirrel he'd caught. The plan was to go into town for only an hour, regroup, and leave immediately. If they encountered any trouble they were to send sparks into the air. Hopefully Muggles would just think they were fireworks, but at this point they really didn't care.

Dean and Seamus parted at the edge of the forest, clinging together with one last kiss before going their separate ways. Seamus went for the seedier side of the town, looking for a homeless shelter or some restaurant dumpsters, maybe even an open window he could summon some food out of.

As he walked, paranoia crept up his body and settled itself around him like a heavy scarf. Every person around him was suspicious, and he couldn't stop looking around as he walked. He was probably drawing more attention to himself by acting so shifty, but he couldn't help it. He saw threats everywhere.

Finally, he found a soup kitchen and went inside. There weren't many people, for which he was grateful, and the woman at the front graciously gave him two to-go packages of stew and bread, and he went on his way.

The aroma of the food made his stomach rumble loudly, and he hadn't realized just how starved he'd been until presented with real food. Part of him wanted to sit on the closest bench and scarf down his portion, but he needed to get out of the town first. The knot in his chest eased slightly when he left the town limits and approached the edge of the forest. Their not-really-a-campsite wasn't far, and if he could just—

" _Stupefy!_ "

The spell hit Seamus square in the back, and he fell forward, blackness swallowing his mind.

HPHPHP

_[content warning: misgendering, deadnaming]_

" _Rennervate_."

Consciousness flooded back into Seamus, and he jerked wildly upon remembering that he was attacked. Something restrained his hands behind his back, though, and he realized he was tied to someone. More than one someone. Looking to either side of him, he saw Dean and Griphook, and when he looked up he saw seven figures in long black cloaks, and his heart sank. Snatchers.

"Rise and shine!" sang a woman, peering at them with dark glee.

"Your shelter idea paid off, Carswell," said another Snatcher.

"What better place for Mudbloods to hide than among the Muggle filth?" growled another.

"Enough," a huge, menacing Snatcher grumbled, pacing around into Seamus' view. Seamus froze when he saw the Snatcher's pointed teeth and matted hair. He'd heard rumors of a werewolf Death Eater, who cannibalized the victims he didn't turn. This must be him: Fenrir Greyback.

"Let's see if we can make a profit off them," Greyback growled. "Scabior, get the list."

"Yeah, Scab, check the list!" cried another woman.

Another Death Eater—Scabior—glared at her, but pulled a roll of parchment out of his robe pocket. "What's ya names?"

Seamus looked over his shoulder at Dean, who shook his head resolutely. Another Snatcher reared back, and Seamus expected a curse or a jinx, but instead he backhanded Seamus across the face. Stars danced in his vision, and he spat out the blood that pooled in his mouth.

"Thomas!" Dean cried out. "Dean Thomas."

Scabior grinned widely. "Well, well, well. We've caught ourselves a Mudblood!"

The Snatchers all jeered and laughed at Dean. Greyback snarled at him. "I thought I smelled something rotten."

"Finnigan, half-blood!" Seamus announced just so they'd leave Dean alone.

"Got a Siobhan Finnigan on 'ere," Scabior said, then squinted at Seamus. "Wait a second, you're a girl, ain't you?"

Greyback leaned in close, closing his hand around Seamus' jaw. He leaned in close, close enough that Seamus could count the individual whiskers on the hideous man's face. He tilted Seamus' head and leaned in further, pressing his nose against Seamus' hair and breathing deeply. Seamus felt like he might be sick.

"Smells good enough to eat," Greyback growled.

"Leave hi—her alone!" Dean shouted. The pronoun stabbed Seamus in the heart, but he squashed the Terrible Thought down. He knew it was just to protect Seamus from further abuse if they knew just how different Seamus was.

"A Mudblood and a truant," Scabior declared. "Let's turn 'em in and—"

Suddenly, there was a loud crackle and the air around them felt charged with electricity. The Snatchers' faces lit up with excitement.

"What a lucky night!" Scabior yelled with glee, then a Snatcher grabbed Dean and Seamus by the shoulders.

"On three!" Greyback yelled, then he counted and they all Disapparated.

After squeezing through space and time and feeling almost like they'd been put through a meat grinder, they emerged in another forest. One of the Snatchers grabbed at their tied-together hands again and forced them to the ground.

"Fan out, come on," Greyback commanded.

"A tent, there!"

"Let's see what unlucky ducks triggered the Taboo."

Seamus looked around wildly, trying to see anything

"Come out of there with your hands up!" one of the Snatchers shouted from somewhere Seamus couldn't see. "We know you're in there! You've got half a dozen wands pointing at you and we don't care who we curse!"

"Dean? Dean, what's happening?" Seamus hissed.

"Someone triggered the Taboo," Dean said.

"Yeah, I gathered that much, thanks," Seamus snapped. He tried wriggling his hands and arms, but the ropes dug into his skin too much. "D'ye have yer wand?"

"No, they snapped ours," Dean replied, and Seamus felt like part of himself had snapped.

There was a struggle beyond them, and Seamus could hear multiple voices protesting against the Snatchers.

"Get—off—her!" someone shouted, and a girl screamed in protest as the boy was presumably beaten.

"Two?" Seamus asked.

"I think three, the other one's just being quiet," Dean said. "It's so dark, it's hard to tell."

Seamus strained his ears to listen as the Death Eaters interrogated the three. If they triggered the Taboo, that had to mean they were on their side, right? He thought he heard one of the Snatchers say they looked Hogwarts age. If they were fellow schoolmates, even dormmates—

"Bind them up with the other three prisoners!" Greyback's raspy voice snarled.

Seamus heard a struggle as the trio were dragged over to where Dean, Seamus, and Griphook were sitting. A Snatcher with more rope tied them all together, then stalked away.

"Anyone still got a wand?" asked one, a boy. The voice sounded familiar, but Seamus wasn't sure if that was true or just wishful thinking.

"No," said the other two, a boy and a girl.

"This is all my fault," the first voice continued. "I said the name, I'm sorry—"

"Harry?" Dean whispered, and Seamus' heart pounded.

" _Dean?_ " the voice said incredulously.

"It _is_ ye!" Seamus exclaimed in a hushed voice.

The other two—they had to be Ron and Hermione—squawked, "Shea?!"

"If they find out who they've got—!" Dean continued. "They're Snatchers, they're only looking for truants to sell for gold—"

Greyback returned. "Not a bad little haul for one night," he snarled with satisfaction. "A Mudblood, a runaway goblin, and four truants. You checked their names on the list yet, Scabior?"

Seamus listened, tense, as Scabior revealed that there was no 'Vernon Dudley' on the list. Greyback interrogated Harry about his identity, and Seamus was amazed at how well Harry was keeping up the lie. He wondered how Harry, Hermione, and Ron had been faring on the run. With Hermione along, they'd probably done much better than Dean and Seamus had.

"Hey!" a voice shouted. "Look at this, Greyback!"

"What do they have?" Seamus whispered.

"Looks like a sword," Dean replied.

"No!" Hermione breathed.

"Ve-e-ry nice," Greyback said. "Oh, very nice indeed. Looks goblin-made, that. Where did you get something like this?"

"It's my father's," Harry replied. "We borrowed it to cut firewood—"

"'Ang on a minute, Greyback! Look at this, in the _Prophet!_ "

Seamus listened with a sinking heart as Scabior read off a description of Hermione, and noted the resemblance between her and the photo. The air around them changed as the Snatchers realized who Hermione was, and who she was supposed to be travelling with. Greyback leaned in close to Harry, questioning him further. Seamus' arms were tingling as the blood circulation was cut off from the way they were tied. He wished he had his wand, a rock, anything he could use to fight back.

"I found glasses!" another Snatcher called. "There was glasses in the tent, Greyback, wait—"

There was a tense moment, and from the way Harry groaned Seamus guessed they stuck the glasses on him.

"It is!" Greyback exclaimed with sick glee. "We've caught Potter!"


	19. Chapter 19

_How did we end up here?_ Seamus asked himself incredulously. Because here they were, in the cellar of the Malfoy Manor of all places, trapped with Harry, Ron, Luna, Ollivander, and a goblin while Hermione was tortured by You-Know-Who's worst Death Eaters.

Luna had cut all their bindings apart as soon as they'd arrived. Ron took up residence by the door and screamed for Hermione over and over while Luna explained that she and Ollivander had already tried every means of escape. Seamus was still reeling from being with his friends and classmates again and finding themselves right in the middle of this war after being isolated for so long. He found Dean's hand and clung tight, not caring who saw.

Cacophony surrounded them between Hermione's screeches, Ron's fervent shouting, and Bellatrix screaming right back at all of them. Then they heard Draco be sent to retrieve Griphook from the cellar. Ron somehow retrieved the lights they'd illuminated, and they lined up against the walls of the cellar before the door opened.

They all glaring at Draco as he came in, and Seamus balled up his fist, wanting to punch the git square on his pointy nose. Draco quickly took Griphook out of the cellar and locked the door again. Ron re-lit the room, but there was an extra person there that nobody had expected to see.

"DOB—" Ron started, but Harry hit him.

Harry, Ron, and Dobby spoke urgently, concocting a plan around Dobby's Apparition abilities. Dobby went over to the old wandmaker, slumped over in the corner with his eyes closed. He held his other hand out toward Dean, Seamus, and Luna, but they didn't move, their eyes fixed on Harry and Ron.

"Harry, we want to help you!" Luna said.

"We can't leave you here," Dean added.

"Go, all of you! We'll see you at Bill and Fleur's," Harry insisted.

Harry suddenly hissed and squeezed his eyes shut, looking pained even though nothing had happened to him. Hermione screamed again.

"We can help! We've got to get Hermione!" Seamus insisted.

"Go!" Harry pleaded. "Go! We'll follow, just go!"

Dean and Seamus looked at each other, then nodded. They each took one of Luna's hands, then Dean reached out for Dobby's. For the third time that evening, they were compressed and squeezed into nothing, and then—peace. Seamus felt jarred not only from the Apparition but from the stark difference between the calamity they were just in and the quiet they were in now.

There was a cottage in the short distance, and the stars illuminated the sandy cliff and grass around them. They were all heaving deep breaths, trying to get as much of the fresh, salty air in their lungs as they could.

"You will stay here," squeaked Dobby, "and I will return with Harry Potter and his friends!"

"Thank you, Dobby," Dean said, smiling at the elf, who disappeared with another _crack_.

There was a moment, and then Luna sighed. "Well, that was exciting, wasn't it?" Despite her airy tone, she was visibly shaking, and Seamus stepped forward and hugged her tightly.

"What eez going on?" came a voice from the cottage. Two figures were headed toward them. Seamus instinctively reached for his wand, then remembered he didn't have it anymore. As the figures approached, Seamus saw a shock of long red hair on the man and figured this was Ron's eldest brother.

"We're friends of Ron's," Dean said. "We were captured by Snatchers, we just came from Malfoy Manor, Dobby went to—"

"Wait, hold on. If you're friends of Ron's, what was his rat's name?"

"Scabbers," Dean answered. "But he turned out to be an animagus, right? That was the rumor."

Bill and Fleur looked at each other, and she nodded, turning toward them. Dean blushed and looked away, and Seamus remembered how entranced he'd been by her in fourth year. Really, his lack of reaction to Fleur that year should've been Seamus' first clue that he was gay.

"Let's go into ze house," Fleur encouraged.

Bill stooped and helped Dean support Ollivander, who was still mostly unconscious, and Seamus and Luna followed. As they walked, Dean explained how they'd been captured along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and that they'd ended up at Malfoy Manor but were rescued by Dobby. Now they were just waiting for Dobby to return with the others.

"Oh how awful," Fleur said. "And zis happened all so quickly!"

Seamus realized that it did happen quickly. Had it really just been an hour ago when Seamus got ambushed by Snatchers in the forest? He just started to ruminate on how he hadn't wanted to go into town in the first place when there was a loud _crack_ outside. They'd settled Ollivander on a living room chair when suddenly they heard yelling.

"HELP!" Harry shouted. "HELP!"

They ran out and saw Ron carrying Hermione toward the cottage. His expression resolute, he acknowledged them with a nod as he rushed to shelter. Hermione was sobbing half-heartedly, blood on her face and arms. Seamus shivered and continued toward the shore where Harry was crouched.

Seamus stilled when he realized Harry was crouched over…Dobby. He wanted to vomit. This elf had been their savior, and now he was dead. Bill instructed Dean to take Griphook into the house, and Fleur and Seamus followed. Seamus glanced over his shoulder at Harry and Bill, who was gently suggesting to Harry that they bury the elf.

He turned forward and blinked tears from his eyes. So much had happened in so little time, and he hadn't been able to do anything. Never before had he felt more useless.

HPHPHP

Not moments after Dobby's funeral did the trio begin scurrying around making their secret plans and refusing to explain anything. Dean and Seamus were used to their antics, so they didn't try to confront them or ask any questions, but Bill and Fleur were visibly upset and frustrated. They all gathered around the dining table with cups of warm tea, and Fleur began cooking something for them to eat. Seamus almost passed out with euphoria at the thought of home-cooked food.

"You lot show up out of the blue with a dead house-elf and saying you were at Malfoy Manor, and they expect us not to ask questions?" Bill raged. "Mum's been out of her mind worrying about those three, and I can't even write to tell her I've seen them in case it's intercepted."

"They have a lot on their shoulders," Luna said evenly. "I expect they'll tell us when it's all over."

Bill's eyes softened. "When it's all over. Right. When'll that be?"

Nobody replied. Fleur bustled over to them with a platter of crackers, cut cheeses, and meats. "'Ere, zis should tide you over."

"Thank you," Dean said, reaching forward to grab some of the food. Even though it was just an appetizer, Seamus thought it was the best food he'd ever tasted, and he never wanted to eat beans again.

"So how did you two end up in the middle of all this?" Bill asked.

"We've been on the run since August," Dean replied. "Hiding in forests, stealing food and supplies, visiting Muggle homeless shelters."

Fleur made a noise of disgust, her face pinched with concern as she whipped her wand around and dishes and ingredients began flying around. Bill watched them with steady eyes.

"But you weren't alone the whole time, right?" Bill asked. "On Potterwatch…"

"We were on Potterwatch?!"

"Yeah, they honored Ted, Dirk, and the other goblin. Mentioned that you had likely been travelling with them," Bill explained.

"Blimey, I thought we were being secretive about it," Dean said. "Wonder how they knew?"

"There are allies all over. Always watching. You probably received some help you didn't even recognize," Bill replied.

"Oh yes," Luna said. "Did you encounter any bears?"

They stared at her.

"Bears?" Dean said.

She nodded, her hair bouncing in her enthusiasm. "Yes. Otsos are merciful forest bear spirits. They look after all the creatures in their woods. Did you see any tracks?"

Seamus stared at her for a long time, a grin spreading across his face. He'd missed her. "No, Luna, we didn't see any bears. But they prolly didn't want us to, right?"

"Right. They are quite elusive, and more common in Finland," she said, then picked up her tea and sipped.

Upstairs, they heard a door close. Then there was a soft knock, and another door opened and then closed. Bill grumbled something under his breath about the trio. Dean and Seamus exchanged a look and a shrug, then kept eating.

"So, we'll head out in the morning, then," Dean said. "Do you have a map that we could have? I'd say borrow, but there's—"

One of the knives Fleur had been commanding clattered to the floor as she whirled around to face them. "What are you saying?"

"We can't stay here," Seamus said. "We're putting you in danger. We can leave tonight if you'd prefer—"

"Non!" Fleur exclaimed. "But of course you will stay 'ere! All of you!"

Their mouths hung open, and they looked at Bill, but he was nodding with the same seriousness in his expression as in Fleur's.

"But-but—"

"It's not up for discussion," Bill said. "We'll keep you safe. You don't have to worry."

Bill's words echoed around in Seamus' head until they settled in his heart _. We'll keep you safe. You don't have to worry._ Worrying was all they knew how to do anymore. Tears rose in his eyes, and he hurriedly scraped the back of his hand across his eyes. Dean took his other hand and squeezed tightly.

"Thank you," Seamus said. "We'll repay you someday."

Bill smiled at all three of them. "You don't have to worry about that. War makes family of us all, and family looks after one another."

HPHPHP

Later that evening, Bill and Fleur got all of their sleeping arrangements set up. Hermione and Luna were in the smallest of the three bedrooms, with Griphook and Ollivander in the twin beds of the second bedroom. Harry, Ron, Dean, and Seamus were all put up in the living room.

Seamus lay awake that night, reliving the day's events. _Has it really just been a day?_ He wondered to himself. He tried to focus on the familiar sounds of three out of four of his dormmates' sleep-breathing, but only Ron was truly asleep. Harry was having some sort of fitful dream, and Seamus could tell Dean was as awake as he was.

"Can't imagine what they've been through," Dean whispered.

"D'ye think they were fightin'? Or just hidin'?"

"I think it's more complicated than that," Dean replied. "Yes, they were hiding, otherwise they'd be all over the news. But I don't think they were cowering. They're up to something, that's for sure, and it's something to do with fighting back."

"I hope they figure it out fast."

Dean huffed a laugh. "Well I doubt they're moseying about, taking their time."

Seamus nodded in silence, then thought about the weight that must be, the weight of the entire wizarding world. If Harry didn't defeat Voldemort, what would they do? That's what they were all waiting for. Sure, the Order of the Phoenix was helping too, but really it had to be Harry in the end, didn't it?

He thought about what it would be like to carry that weight around for your entire life. Harry hadn't known it would come to this—none of them had—but he'd still been their hero, their idol, for seventeen years now.

"I don't think I've ever given him enough credit for how much he has depending on him," Seamus whispered. "I've always just thought of him as one of us, but he's not."

"He is and he isn't, I supposed," Dean said. "Ron and Hermione too, in a way. They've been dealing with so much for so long, we've just gotten used to it."

"I wish we could help," Seamus said.

Dean made a humming noise. There was a pause, then he said, "I wonder if Dumbledore's Army started back up."

"Under Snape's regime? No way."

"Well it was founded to fight against Umbridge's regime," Dean said. "The students would need it now more than ever."

That made him think of Parvati and their community, all of the students they'd gathered together and bonded with over their own individual oddities and identities. His heart squeezed so tight with anxiety that he thought it would burst. He hadn't let himself think of them in so long. Were they okay? Were they sticking together?

"We all need each other now more than ever," Dean finished.

Seamus found he didn't have anything to add after that. He realized that, for an artist who was more comfortable with his hands than his words, Dean had a poetic way of understanding the world. Seamus deeply admired him for that. His heart swelled with love and admiration for his best friend, for his—boyfriend? No. That would be a discussion for another time. A time after war. If they ever found that time.

He glanced over his shoulder to see if Harry had settled any and recognized the rhythmic breathing he'd spent six years next to. He looked back at Dean and reached out to grab his hand, gripping the long fingers tight.

"I love ye," Seamus whispered.

"I love you too," Dean whispered back.

And there, in the tiny cottage on an unknown coast with allies new and old, they'd found an eye in the center of the storm.


	20. Chapter 20

Things had settled into a disjointed sort of rhythm in Shell Cottage. Housing seven wizards and an ornery goblin was no easy task, but Bill and Fleur handled it with grace. Dean, Seamus, and Luna helped out with as many chores as they could to make their stay easier.

Soon after arriving, the trio had taken to shutting themselves in the smallest bedroom all day with Griphook, only emerging for mealtimes. If Bill and Fleur were upset about the trio's seclusion and planning, they didn't show it. Everyone seemed to accept to some grudging degree that those three would do whatever they felt they had to, and nobody could stop them. Bill remarked once that it was remarkably similar to living with Fred and George again, though without any explosions. Fleur simply sniffed and was as hospitable as possible, as if trying to persuade them to stop their antics with the promise of baked goods.

It was almost easy to forget they were in the middle of a war, like they were all living in the cramped cottage because they'd chosen to. It did feel like they were family now, as Bill had said. But one just had to look at Ollivander's frail face and remember. Not to mention the Daily Prophets that Bill picked up from time to time on his outings to the city, and the ever-present feeling of needing to look over one's shoulder.

In mid-April, Ollivander was well enough to go live with Bill's Aunt Muriel and the rest of the Weasleys. Ron's face pinched when Bill announced he'd be helping Ollivander make the trip later in the week, and the two went for a walk on the cliffs after supper that night.

Luna was a delight to have around. She kept everyone's spirits up with her banter and odd stories about her father, the Quibbler, and the myriad of creatures they believed in.

"Honestly, though," Dean said to Seamus one night, "it's not that outlandish. I mean, Muggles are still discovering new species all the time. Who's to say some of these things don't exist?"

"You really believe there's a one-ton boar living in a mountain in Greece?"

"I didn't believe in witches and wizards and unicorns before I got my letter, so who's to say?" Dean replied with a shrug.

There was one entertaining night in particular when Luna wondered if there were any sighting of the Red Dwarf before the war, a kind of hobgoblin that was believed to be a precursor to catastrophy.

" _Oui, le Nain Rouge!_ " Fleur exclaimed. " _Ma mère_ used to frighten me with stories of him!"

"Oh yes, they're quite tricky," Luna said. "And they get violent if you approach them. My father once…"

Bill looked at Dean and Seamus and shrugged, and they all laughed while the two women bonded over French creatures.

Now they were awaiting Bill's return from taking Ollivander to Muriel's. They all sat around the table, squished in arm to arm next to each other as they ate. The silence was heavy in Bill and Ollivander's absence, and Fleur kept anxiously checking out the window for Bill's return. He did return, though, with a tangled mess of storm-blown hair and a bright smile.

"Everything's fine," Bill said as he came in.

Seamus let out a breath and realized he hadn't expected to be so tense. Bill had only taken a few trips out of the cottage in the month and a half they'd been here, but they'd all gone over easily. This one was longer, though, and involved transporting a person of interest. Nobody had voiced it, but they'd all been worried about what could happen.

Luna was in the middle of telling a story about her father when there was a sharp rap on the front door. Everything went silent and still. Bill and the trio immediately pointed their wands at the door as Fleur dashed out of the kitchen and Griphook hid beneath the table. Dean gripped Seamus' hand underneath the table, then grabbed Luna's too. Only now did it occur to Seamus that hiding out with the Boy Who Lived was probably not the safest thing to do.

"Who is it?" Bill shouted, his voice steady and strong.

"It is I, Remus John Lupin!"

Dean and Seamus looked at each other. Could it be? The voice was familiar, but could it really be him? And if so, why was he here?

"I am a werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret-Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!"

_Emergency._ Seamus' gut twisted as Bill ran forward and ripped open the door. Lupin practically tripped into the cottage, looking storm-battered and pale. He looked around, momentarily shocked by the amount of people in the room, then exclaimed, "It's a boy! We've named him Ted, after Dora's father!"

Everyone squealed with joy and relief at the unexpected news. Hermione and Fleur embraced each other in their excitement as Bill clapped Lupin on the back. Lupin approached Harry and declared that he was the godfather, bringing more cheers and exclamations. Bill pulled out a bottle of wine and as many goblets as he could muster.

Seamus slipped his hand into Dean's, and they stood on the edge of the small, celebratory crowd.

"Ted," Dean whispered.

"I know," Seamus replied.

After a while, Lupin seemed to notice his former students and strode over to them. Panic seized in Seamus' chest as he realized they were the last ones to see Ted Tonks alive. Ted had died while travelling with them. If they hadn't gone into the city, if they'd stayed and fought, if they had separated sooner—

"Professor—" Seamus started.

Lupin held up a hand and waved away the title with a smile. "Please, boys, none of that."

"I'm so sorry," Dean said. "Ted, he—Mr. Tonks, that is, well—it's our fault, sir."

Their former teacher reached out and gripped their upper arms, staring at them in turn. "Dora and I do not blame you in the slightest. We grieve his loss, yes, but it was not your fault."

"He saved us," Seamus said. "I don't know what we would've done if he hadn't found us."

"And he talked about his daughter a lot. He really loved her, said he was so proud of her," Dean added. "Will you tell her that? And tell her we're sorry?"

Lupin's eyes went a little glassy, and he nodded. "I will. Thank you, Dean, Shea. I made Harry godfather already, but you can be uncles if you want?"

Dean and Seamus grinned and nodded, and Lupin turned back to the other celebrators. Seamus chuckled slightly and hung his head in thought.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"I was just thinkin'…" Seamus mumbled. "Almost a year ago, me mam cast me out. I felt so alone, except for ye. And now I have an entire family. A huge, extended family. It's just all so unexpected."

"You might have some competition in family size if Lupin keeps making everybody aunts and uncles," Dean joked. "This kid's gonna have an army of relatives."

Seamus rolled his eyes, and Dean hugged him tightly. They stood like that for a long while, not caring who saw. They were all family now, after all.

Eventually, Dean excused himself to go to the bathroom, and Hermione approached Seamus.

"Hey, Shea," she said, hugging him in greeting.

"It's, uh, Seamus now, actually," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. It was easier, somehow, to tell people who'd never known him as Shea or Siobhan, and part of him still feared rejection, even from people who'd supported him from day one. "Ye can still call me Shea, though."

"Seamus," she repeated with a wide smile. "That's brilliant, fits you perfectly."

"I hope ye lot are being careful about whatever ye're planning," Seamus said after a moment. "I don't want anything bad to happen to ye."

Her eyes softened. "I'm afraid being careful is secondary in this case."

"I figured," he said. "It's good to see ye, though. It's so hard, not knowing…"

"Yes," she agreed. "I think about everyone at Hogwarts, on the run, in hiding. How many people we'll never see again." She looked up at him, a soft twinkle in her brown eyes. "I'm glad you and Dean have each other, though. And that you two seem to have figured things out."

Seamus blushed. "Ye noticed?"

"I think everyone noticed a long time ago," Hermione replied.

"And what about ye and Ron?" he countered.

She pursed her lips and ducked her head, glancing over at where Harry, Ron, and Bill were laughing together, goblets of wine in their hands. Ron noticed her looking and began to wave enthusiastically with the hand that held the wine, which Harry immediately grabbed and stopped from spilling everywhere. They all grinned at each other.

"I think we're getting there," she replied evenly.

Dean returned then, and the three of them rejoined the rest in the celebrations, in this one bright spot among all the darkness.

HPHPHP

A week later, it was announced that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Griphook would be leaving the cabin soon. Fleur was visibly upset about it, but nobody did anything to stop them; they knew they couldn't. Bill helped the trio gather any supplies that they needed, and they took off early one morning. Dean, Seamus, and Luna couldn't help but wonder if they'd ever see them again.

The rest of that day had been relatively quiet. Luna continued exploring the capabilities of the new wand Ollivander had sent her a couple days ago, and even let Dean and Seamus practice some, but it didn't feel right in their hands. Its magic was too flighty and whimsical for them, but it suited Luna just perfectly.

That evening, Bill came home in a rush. He'd gone out to keep an eye and ear out for any news of the trio now that they were out and about again.

"What eez it?" Fleur asked in a worried tone as he dove for the radio on the mantle in the living room.

Bill tapped his wand against the radio, muttering passwords under his breath as he tuned it to various stations. Finally, it crackled to life with the familiar voices of _Potterwatch_.

"—out of London!" cried what sounded like Lee Jordan.

"I wonder what the Prophet'll say tomorrow," said either Fred or George. "It'll be hard to cover this up for sure!"

"For those who are joining us now," said the other twin, "we've got exciting news for you on this extra special surprise broadcast! It may sound unbelievable, but it's true. Harry Potter has been sighted. _Potterwatch_ has now successfully watched Potter."

"But dear Harry was not only sighted—"

"—oh no, Rapier, our Potter pal always has to make a splash."

"Potter and his two compatriots were seen today on the back of a dragon—a familiar sight for anyone who attended the Triwizard Tournament three years ago."

"But this was no Hungarian Horntail. It was in fact the very dragon rumored to have been guarding the deepest Gringotts vaults for decades now. That is right, listeners, not only has Harry Potter successfully broken into Gringotts—he also escaped on a dragon."

"And here to talk to us about this very special dragon," Lee broke back in, "is none other than our guest dragon expert, Ridgeback!"

"Thank you for having me," came a gruff voice.

Bill beamed at the radio. "Charlie! I thought he was still in Romania!"

Fleur shushed him, and they all refocused on the broadcast.

"Now, Ridgeback, what can you tell us about this dragon?"

"From what I can tell from the eyewitness accounts, I'll wager that it's a Ukrainian Ironbelly. Ironbellies are the largest breed, which makes them quite slower in flight than your average dragon, but it can still deal a great amount of damage."

"Now, how do you think Gringotts acquired such a dragon?"

"There've been rumors about a dragon in Gringotts for ages, but nobody thought they were true. The goblins probably got it either as an egg or a very young hatchling and raised it in the vaults. The last time Ironbellies were actively bred was during World War I, when there was a push to use them on the front lines. Naturally, that proved a disaster, so the project was scrapped, but undoubtedly some eggs slipped through the cracks, and I'm willing to bet one ended up at Gringotts."

"And how did the goblins manage to control it?"

"Well, dragons are notoriously dangerous and forbidden for good reason. They're unbelievably hard to subdue, so it's likely been tortured and abused for its entire life. It's also probably blind, having spent its whole life in the dark of the vaults."

"So, Ridgeback, what do you think the chances of survival are for Harry and his friends?"

"If it was anyone else, I'd say next to none, but we're talking about the Boy Who Lived, and this isn't his first dragon encounter. I think he'll be fine."

"You heard it folks, straight from the mouth of a dragon expert. Harry Potter will likely live to tell the tale of how he broke into Gringotts and flew out on a dragon."

"And what a tale that will be! I think I can hear Rita Skeeter buzzing for the scoop from whatever rock she's…"

Bill turned away from the radio and slumped into an armchair. The whole room was stunned. Even Luna didn't seem to have anything to say. Bill dragged his hands over his face and chuckled.

"I knew they were planning something," Bill muttered, his voice muffled from his hands. "From the way they kept conspiring with Griphook, I thought maybe it had something to do with the bank. But this?" He laughed again and brought his hands away from his face, eyes cast up toward the ceiling. "Those three are capable of anything, aren't they?"

HPHPHP

"I'd say it was fake if I'd heard it anywhere else," Seamus said later that night after the broadcast had ended.

Him, Dean, and Luna were all sitting on one of the twins in the second bedroom, where Dean, Seamus, Ron, and Harry had been sleeping since Ollivander left. Fleur had set up two of the cots from the living room for the four of them, but one had gone unused. Dean and Seamus had shared a bed before, and they didn't think they could manage sleeping on opposite sides of a room after months lying next to each other.

"This feels big," Dean said. "That definitely got You-Know-Who's attention. They're not laying low anymore, and it feels like something is going to happen."

"Do you think they'll go back to Hogwarts?" Luna asked.

"Why would they?"

"Well they went to Gringotts to get something, right?" Dean said. "What if they need multiple somethings. What if that's what they've been doing this whole time, building a weapon or something, and they've been looking for the parts."

"A weapon? Like a Muggle blaster or something?"

"Gun," Dean corrected.

"So ye think they need something at Hogwarts?" Seamus asked. "But it's being run by Snape! They can't get in!"

"Neville said that if Harry ever came back, it meant we would revolt against Snape and the Carrows and take Hogwarts back," Luna said, eyes bright with the thought.

Seamus thought again of his friends and Parvati and the group they'd created. He wondered if Parvati had told Lavender how she felt, or if she was still keeping it a secret. He thought about Dumbledore's Army and the students and wondered if they were still fighting back, or if most of them had given up. Luna had talked about the things the Death Eaters did in the fall, before she'd been taken at Christmas: torture, pureblood propaganda, and more. It had sounded like another world, like another place.

Fleur came by shortly to send them all to bed, ushering Luna out to the smallest bedroom. Dean and Seamus made it look like they were sleeping in the separate beds, but then Seamus sneaked back over to Dean's bed and crawled in beside him.

As Dean wrapped his arms around Seamus and they settled in for the night, Seamus thought about what life would have been like if he hadn't gone on the run with Dean, if he'd stayed. He liked to think he would've led Dumbledore's Army with Neville, Ginny, and Luna, despite not having been part of it the first time around. Being apart from Dean would've been the worst kind of torture, though, not knowing what his best friend was doing or if he was alive.

He tucked his head under Dean's chin and wondered what their life would be like after all this, if there was an after. Would they ever get a chance to be normal again? Would they ever leave Shell Cottage? Would they get the chance to go on a real date and explore this relationship?

"I love ye," he whispered like he did every night.

"I love you too," Dean whispered.

Seamus lifted his head so he could look Dean in the eyes. It was dark, so he could feel Dean's gaze more than he could see it. Heart fluttering in his chest, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. He hoped that all of this would be over someday, if only so he and Dean could have more than stolen moments together.

As he drifted off to sleep, there was a sharp double knock at the door. Seamus rolled out of bed, mussed the covers of the other bed for good measure, and then went to open the door. Luna was standing there, her hair sticking out wildly around her head, her hand enclosed in a fist and held out toward him.

"Luna? Luna, what's wrong?" he asked.

Dean rushed over as Luna tilted her fist palm up and opened it. Lying in the center of her hand was her old Dumbledore's Army Galleon.

"I've kept it with me since last year when the Death Eaters invaded," she said. "I'd hoped it would signal again, and—" She smiled. "Well, look for yourselves."

Seamus picked up the Galleon, which was pulsing with heat, but he didn't know what to make of it since he'd never had one. Dean took it from him, tilting it to the side to read the numbers. But there weren't numbers engraved on the side. Instead there were three words: NOW HOGS HEAD.

"It's a message from Neville. Harry and the others must be at Hogwarts," Luna said.

"Why does it say Hog's Head?" Seamus asked, bewildered.

"That must be the meeting point," Dean replied.

"What are we waiting for?" Luna asked, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. "Let's go!"


	21. Chapter 21

Dean and Seamus quickly threw their clothes on and rushed out of the room with Luna. They reached the top of the stairs when they realized Luna had stopped outside of Bill and Fleur's room.

"What are ye doin'?" Seamus hissed.

"Come on, Luna!" Dean said.

"We should tell them where we're going," Luna replied, raising her hand to knock on the door.

"They'll try to stop us!"

"We're all seventeen, they're not our parents, and somebody should probably tell the Order what's going to happen," she answered evenly, then rapped loudly on the door.

There was a snorting noise from the other side, then Bill called, "Who is it?"

"It's Luna Lovegood," she responded perkily. "I arrived here with an elf and a wandmaker almost two months ago. The cottage has not been broken into."

They heard the bed creak, Fleur's muffled voice, and then shuffling footsteps before the door opened, revealing a groggy Bill.

"What's going on?" he asked, seeing the three of them dressed and out of bed.

"Neville's signaled us from Hogwarts that Harry's there. The revolution has begun, and we're going to fight," she said primly.

Bill gaped at her, then looked to the boys for confirmation.

"The message mentioned the Hog's Head. We reckon that's the meeting point," Dean elaborated.

"How do you know this isn't a trap?" Bill demanded.

Luna held up the fake Galleon, which he inspected. "We used them in Dumbledore's Army. Nobody else would know we use them to communicate or have any reason to suspect."

Bill examined it closely. "This is an impressive replica."

"You should tell Hermione."

"Of course she made it," Bill replied, handing it back to her. "Hog's Head, eh?"

Seamus looked dubious. "You're not stopping us?"

"Of course not," he said. "I doubt I could anyway. There's a curfew on Hogsmeade, by the way. If you Apparate into the village, you'll set off a charm. Best to Apparate directly into the pub. Have you been—wait, are you even licensed?"

"No, we're not," Dean said. "Shea and I did it once, though."

"That's no good," Bill said. "This is a far distance, and it has to be exact."

"We don't have another choice!" Seamus exclaimed.

"I'll Apparate you three to the Hog's Head myself," he replied, then ran back into the bedroom.

They waited, listening as he hurriedly explained the situation to Fleur, whose voice rose as she became more conscious and therefore more worried. He ran back out in his wizard's robes, calling out his love for her over his shoulder, and they followed him down the stairs.

"I've never Side-Along Apparated more than two people," Bill said as they ran away from Shell Cottage to get away from the Fidelius Charm's protection, "and I don't feel now is the time to try. I hate to do this, but I'll have to come back for one person."

"I'll do it," Seamus said. "I'll wait."

"Shea—" Dean started.

"It's fine. It won't be long, right? What could happen to me?"

"I wish you wouldn't ask that," Dean said with a frown.

"Right." Bill stopped and turned to them, holding out his hands.

Dean and Luna grasped his hands, and Luna wrapped her other hand around his arm for extra security. Then there was a _crack_ , and Seamus was alone in the dark.

It wasn't until the moment right before they were gone that Seamus realized he hadn't been alone, truly alone, in so long. Being away from Dean was like being without air. He hadn't realized how dependent he'd become on Dean. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought that was probably unhealthy, but he didn't have it in him to care at the moment.

The idea of going back to Hogwarts sent a stab of fear through his heart because he knew it wouldn't be the Hogwarts he remembered. He almost didn't want to see this Hogwarts, mutated and twisted into a nightmare that he could only imagine. He tried to concentrate on the idea of seeing his friends again, but even they would be twisted. Would Lavender's eyes still sparkle? Would Neville still have that gentle smile? Would Parvati still roll her eyes and grin at him?

Bill came back then, and the noise startled Seamus. "Ready?"

"Everything alright?" Seamus asked.

"Alright as can be," Bill replied, holding out his hand.

Seamus nodded and took it, and almost immediately regretted it. He hated the feeling of Apparition, and was almost certain that—if it weren't so bloody convenient—he'd like to never fully learn how.

His feet his stone, and he stumbled. Long, familiar arms caught him, and he knew he'd made it to the right place.

"I don't know what you kids are coming from," came a grumbling voice, "but I doubt you're the last, eh?"

"There should be a whole army coming," Luna replied dreamily.

The man who'd spoken scoffed and shook his head, and Seamus was struck by the vibrant blue of his eyes. Almost like—

"I have to go tell the Order," Bill said. "You three—watch yourselves. Take care of each other. There's no world worth fighting for if all the children are dead."

"Thank you both for everything," Dean said.

"We're family now, remember?" Bill said, giving them one last smile before Disapparating.

"All this _crack_ ing is bound to get attention soon," the barkeeper muttered.

"Wait, where is everyone?" Seamus asked, looking around.

"You didn't think they were all piled in here, did you?" the barkeeper asked incredulously.

"Well, that's what—" He stopped as he noticed movement in a portrait on the wall. A girl was walking down the painted tunnel, growing larger and larger until she filled the frame and the portrait swung open, revealing a tunnel.

"This'll take you straight to 'em," the barkeeper told them. "It connects to some magic room where they're hiding out."

Dean and Luna grinned at each other, and Seamus knew the old man was talking about the mysterious Room of Requirement. The tunnel looked just like any other secret passageway, with stone stairs and a packed dirt floor and lamps burning on the walls. It certainly did not look like it led to a group of rebel students in about to fight in a war.

 _About to fight in a war_. It hit Seamus just then, what they were about to do. This was it. This was the final step, and there'd be no going back. No longer would they run from the fight. Now they were running straight toward it.

Seamus' feelings seemed to be echoed by the others, as they all hesitated for a breath. Then Dean took Luna and Seamus' hands, and together they approached the tunnel. They climbed in one after another, with Dean leading the group, and they heard the portrait swing shut behind them.

The tunnel was much longer than Seamus had anticipated. Some part of him had assumed there would be some kind of magical teleportation property to it, but it seemed like it had just physically manifested into existence underneath the castle. It twisted and sloped, and they began to breathe heavier as the passage inclined steeply upward. Soon enough, though, they came to the end of the tunnel and found a door at the end of a short stairway. They could hear voices on the other side, and Seamus' heart flew into his throat.

"I love ye, Dean," Seamus whispered, and Luna stepped quickly away from them and started tactfully humming to herself. "I don't know what's goin' ter happen, but I know that I love ye."

"I love you too, Shea," Dean said, leaning down and quickly kissing him. "This won't be the last time we say it."

Seamus nodded resolutely, then took Dean's hand. "Right. Let's do this."

Luna smiled back at them and swung open the door, declaring, "We got your message, Neville!" Just in front of her Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were standing before a large group of students. "Hello you three, I thought you must be here!"

Cheers erupted from the group of students, but Seamus hardly recognized any of them. They were all so battered, with swollen lips and scars and burn marks. He heard a familiar shriek, then Lavender threw herself into his arms.

"I was s-so worried," she sobbed against his neck.

"There, there, Lav," he said awkwardly.

"Hi, everyone! Oh, it's great to be back!" Luna said cheerfully, walking over to a group of Ravenclaw students.

Dean carefully steered them away from the tunnel entrance and away from Harry, who was trying to regain control of the room. Lavender pulled Seamus over to—

"Parvati," Seamus breathed, eyes wide in shock.

Her hair had been shaved right down to her scalp, which was had scabs and scars on it. Padma was sitting next to her with an equally bald head, though with less injuries.

"They cut my hair to punish me," Parvati said with a shrug, but he could see how much it hurt her. "So I shaved the rest."

Seamus reached out and hugged her tightly, ignoring the commotion as Harry tried to tell them he wasn't trying to start a revolution. Suddenly there was another hush, though, and he turned as Ginny, her twin brothers, Lee Jordan, and Cho Chang came through the tunnel.

There was more arguing and more commotion as the new arrivals stirred up more talk surrounding a rebellion.

"We're fighting, aren't we?" Dean demanded. "The message said Harry was back, and we were going to fight!"

Everyone shouted out their agreement as Ron said something in a low voice to Harry. The trio talked seriously among each other, easily ignoring the rest of them, and Seamus wondered if they knew how annoying that was to everyone else. He'd been putting up with it for seven years, and he still never got used to it.

"Okay," Harry said resignedly, and the room fell silent. "There's something we need to find…"

"Our group," Seamus whispered to Parvati. "Is everyone—"

"We're mostly okay," Parvati replied in a hushed voice while Harry explained his plan. "Everyone who came back, anyway. We've kept quiet, not held any meetings, laid low. They focused on Padma and I since most people knew we were in it, but we didn't reveal anyone."

"I'm so sorry I left you," Seamus said. "If I'd known, I—"

"Shea, stop," she interrupted. "If you stayed, you would've gotten yourself killed. It was a relief, knowing you were out there and not in here."

Seamus squeezed her arm, and then his attention was pulled away by Harry leaving with Luna. There was a brief lull in the tension as their chosen one disappeared again, but everyone quickly began questioning the new arrivals about their time outside Hogwarts.

"Well it turns out ye were right," Seamus said to Dean.

"Hm?"

"That they're looking for parts of something to bring Ye-Know-Who down," he elaborated.

"Sure feels that way," Dean replied, and suddenly a cushy armchair appeared next to him. He sighed with relief and collapsed into it, and Seamus smirked and perched on the arm. Dean's leg began bouncing restlessly. "This waiting might make me insane."

The tunnel door pushed open again, and, to their amazement, Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet walked in. The older Gryffindors in the room exploded into shrieks, and the Weasley twins rushed their old teammates.

"Word spreads fast, don't it?" Seamus remarked.

"I doubt they'll be the last," Dean replied.

Dean was right. Over the next ten minutes, all sorts of people began arriving through the tunnel door, so many that they stopped shutting it. Old DA members, students who were on the run, a few parents, and members of the Order of the Phoenix. Between the DA galleons, Bill alerting the Order, and the Hog's Head barkeeper reaching out to people, the news of an impending battle at Hogwarts was spreading like Fiendfyre.

Lupin came through the door with Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Dean suddenly ducked his head.

"What is it?" Seamus asked.

"I've been thinking," Dean mumbled, "ever since we saw Lupin at Shell Cottage, I…I think I had a crush on him."

Seamus goggled at him. "Ye wha?"

"Third year, I think I had a crush on him and didn't realize," Dean said. "He was so cool, the best professor by far, and I remember just always wanting to be in the front of the class and prove myself to him."

"Godric, ye've been queer this whole time?" Seamus said rubbing his forehead.

"Seems so."

"Ye couldn't've had this revelation earlier? Saved us a whole lot of heartache?" Seamus teased.

Dean glanced over to where Ginny was participating in a family reunion. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had just come through with Bill and Fleur, and Mrs. Weasley kept alternating between squeezing Ron's face and crying on his shoulder. Mr. Weasley was vigorously shaking Hermione's hand, and she looked both flummoxed and on the verge of tears.

"I think it all happened the way it was meant to," Dean replied, looking away from his former girlfriend. He reached over and took Seamus' hand, intertwining their fingers.

"Oh, Par, you were right!" Lav exclaimed, breaking the moment. She and Parvati were sitting on cushions a few feet away from them, Parvati's arms around her.

"Of course I was," Parvati replied. "I told you, love, there was no way they wouldn't figure it out."

Seamus blushed hard. "Oh shove off. And when did this happen?" he asked, gesturing between the two girls.

"Beginning of the year," Lavender replied, smiling adoringly at Parvati.

"I wrote her a letter over the summer, confessing my feelings, and she never replied," Parvati said in annoyance.

"Lav!" Seamus exclaimed in horror.

"I wanted to tell her in person," Lavender replied, pouting slightly. "I'm no good on paper."

Parvati rolled her eyes and was about to respond when Harry tumbled back into the room with Luna in tow. He stared at the crowded room, at the myriad of parents and students, and the tension of war immediately returned to the air. Lupin and one of the twins were closest to him and hurried over, asking for updates.

"What first Harry?" the other twin shouted from where he stood with his parents. "What's going on?"

Seamus swallowed, his hand tightening on Dean's reflexively.

"They're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organized," Harry told them, then, after a breath, "We're fighting."

Everyone erupted into a frenzy as they drew their wands and charged toward the stairs. Harry squeezed out of the way of the first fighters, and Seamus thought how anticlimactic that would be if he hadn't stepped aside of the crowd: the Boy Who Lived, trampled by his supporters.

Dean dragged Seamus up with him, and they grabbed Luna as they passed. Padma, Parvati, and Lavender kept pace behind them on the staircase, and they followed the crowd heading toward the Great Hall. When they emerged out of the secret door on the fifth floor, they saw a castle in chaos. Prefects and professors shunted their students toward the Great Hall. Suits of armor and statues patrolled the corridors. Students in all array of dress talked among themselves, some crying, some shouting, some not saying anything at all.

They fell into line with a group of Ravenclaws that were heading for the ground floor, and they tried to ignore the stares and unabashed whispering at the sight of them. Seamus knew that, despite a month of home cooking and magical remedies, they still looked haggard and scared. Although, they didn't look much different than most of the kids here.

It felt like something out of a nightmare, taking their seats at the Gryffindor table under these circumstances. They wouldn't be feasting or celebrating tonight. The ceiling above glittered blackly, and all the Hogwarts ghosts lined the walls.

Padma and Luna stayed with them as their group took their seats at the Gryffindor table. They fixed their eyes on Professor McGonagall and the rest of the teachers and members of the Order of the Phoenix as she delivered an address on the situation at hand. This was interrupted, though, as a terrible voice came through the Great Hall.

"I know that you are preparing to fight," said the voice, which was cold and high. Seamus knew the voice instantly, though he had never heard it before. It was the voice of his nightmares, of the monster under his bed, of the thing he'd always been told about but could never quite believe.

Voldemort-because he was Voldemort, not You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-announced that they had until midnight to hand over Harry before the battle would start.

Without hesitation, Pansy Parkinson stood and shrieked, "But he's there! Potter's _there!_ Someone grab him!"

And, sure enough, he was. Harry had been trying to sneak along one side of the Gryffindor table, lurking against the wall, but now he was frozen in place, his face reading pure bewilderment and shock.

Seamus gritted his teeth and stood, along with the rest of the table, and together they faced the Slytherins on the other side of the Great Hall. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws stood as well, many with wands drawn.

McGonagall cleared her throat and dismissed Pansy and the Slytherins for evacuation with Filch, and Seamus had to fight the urge to cheer. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were dismissed next, then Gryffindor, though there were many underage students who tried to stay, causing McGonagall to rush them off.

Finally, it was just those who were going to fight left in the Hall. A united front. An army to take on Voldemort.


	22. Chapter 22

The crashes and screams pounded against his ears. Death, carnage, and destruction lay all around him. Lights and bolts of magic shot through the air. Wizards, Death Eaters, giants, spiders, and more crashed and fought against each other as the castle was shaken to its very foundations.

It was all a jumble in his mind, jolting his senses and dizzying his thoughts. He hadn't thought it would be like this. He knew it would be dangerous, that it would be difficult, that they might die…but this? This was madness. This was hell.

It was almost exhilarating at first, before it all began. McGonagall split them up into groups, each with a task. Professor Sprout and Neville took a contingent of students to the greenhouses to get mandrakes and devil's snare and other unpleasant plants. Fred, George, Lee, and some friends were sent to patrol the secret passages. The professors went about casting protective charms on the castle. Even Professor Trelawney contributed, gathering Lavender, the Patils, and others to get crystal balls to throw at the invaders.

Seamus and Dean were part of a large group sent to guard the Forbidden Forest. They didn't want to think about what sort of nasty creatures the Death Eaters could be sending out of the forest, but when they arrived, a contingent of Death Eaters was already approaching the castle. It was a larger group than theirs, and they had no choice but to meet it head on.

The fighting was chaotic, it was messy, it was everything he'd had nightmares about for the past eight months. They'd been overwhelmed and had to fall back. Seamus tried to block out the screams of his comrades, tried to focus on Dean, but it was so dark and there was so much happening that they got separated quickly. He thought back to second year, when Lockhart tried starting a duelling club, and they'd thought it was all in good fun, that they'd never really have to duel someone.

This wasn't like Lockhart's duelling, though. This wasn't two wizards facing off in a controlled environment. This was on another level entirely. It was tricks and warfare and fighting dirty in every sense of the phrase.

He'd been bending over the body of a fallen Death Eater, rummaging in the pockets for a wand when someone screamed, "Shea! Watch out!"

His fingers closed around a wand just as he felt the ground shake violently. He looked up to see two giants grappling with each other, stumbling ever closer to where he stood. Fear locked his limbs, and he stood frozen, watching, until a charm hit him in the chest and sent him flying backwards, right as a giant's foot came down where he'd been standing.

"You utter maniac!" the person shouted, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and pulling him up. "What do you think you're doing?"

"E-Ernie?" Seamus groaned as he stumbled along, half-running and half-being dragged.

"Yeah," Ernie said. "Come on, I left Luna over here. We gotta stick together."

_Stick together_. "Y-Ye seen Dean?" Seamus asked, panic seizing his chest.

"No, mate, sorry. Keep up, now."

They ducked behind a portion of the castle wall that had been blown apart. Luna was crouched there, shooting curses out from behind a large chunk of debris.

"Oh good, you got him," Luna said, her tone remarkably even for the situation they were all in.

"Luna, have ye seen Dean?" Seamus asked.

She shook her head, her long hair matted and messy. "No, I—oh my," she said, pointing.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were running down the grass, narrowly avoiding the brawling giants. Then they stopped, and everybody felt the reason. Ice filled their chests and froze the night air around them. The explosions and yelling fell silent in a way Seamus had only felt once before, in third year…

"H-Happy thoughts, everyone," Luna said, then waved her wand, and a silvery rabbit burst out of the tip of her wand.

Happy thoughts? Happy thoughts? What even were those? Seamus thought of his mother, who'd abandoned him. Of Dean, who he couldn't find. Of Bill and Fleur, their saviors, who'd probably die in this war. Of—

Ernie's wand produced a boar, and the two Patronuses circled around Seamus, causing the darkness in his mind to fade. He remembered the month in Shell Cottage, remembered the warmth and safety and Fleur's madeleines.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ " he cried, and a fox flew into the air.

"We have to help them," Luna exclaimed, pointing down the grass to where the trio had stopped running. They were trying and failing to produce Patronuses, and the horde of dementors was getting closer.

Without a word, Luna, Ernie, and Seamus all left their spot behind the wall, sending their Patronuses on ahead, where they danced and soared through the air toward the dementors. The trio looked to them in shock.

"That's right," Luna said when they were close. "That's right, Harry."

Luna spoke encouragingly to them, and finally they were able to produce their Patronuses. The dementors fled under the assault of the six silvery creatures, and the feelings of pressing oblivion faded.

"Can't thank you enough," Ron said, breathing heavily, "you just saved—"

But their moment of peace was disturbed by yet another giant came thundering out of the forest.

"RUN!" Harry shouted, but he didn't need to. Seamus grabbed Luna's hand, and with Ernie behind them they ran back to the castle. Seamus looked over his shoulder to check that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were with them, but he saw them running along the tree line. They had their own agenda, he guessed, as always.

"We can't just hide here," Seamus panted when they got back to the wall.

"The hell we can't," Ernie snapped. "I don't want to die tonight."

"Either fight tonight or die tomorrow, Ernie," Seamus snapped. "Ye think ye're going to live much longer if we lose today?"

Ernie glared at him, then raised his wand and headed into the castle.

"Keep an eye out for Dean," Seamus told Luna, and they followed Ernie into the fray.

HPHPHP

They hadn't rejoined the fighting for more than ten minutes when Voldemort's voice filled the air again, commanding his fighters to retreat and giving them an hour's rest. The two Death Eaters they'd been fighting just then dissolved into smoke and flew away, leaving them in shock. They hadn't believed that they'd really retreat. But, when your boss was Voldemort…

"Where do we go now?" Seamus asked.

"The Great Hall, of course," Luna replied.

She was right. It was the largest space in the castle, and it was where they always gathered. He remembered third year, when they all slept in the Great Hall because Sirius Black had broken into the castle. He remembered the Yule Ball in fourth year. He remembered the feasts, the celebrations, the mourning. It was the place where they all belonged, regardless of House or bloodline.

When he stepped into the Great Hall, the first thing he noticed was the line of bodies. The Weasleys were all gathered around someone, and his hands trembled at the thought of Bill, but—no, he saw Bill and Fleur standing, crying. He counted them all and…one of the twins was missing. Tears burned his eyes, and he wanted to leave. He didn't want to see the rest of this. He didn't want to know who else had perished.

Madam Pomfrey was at the front of the hall where the teachers' table usually was, treating the wounded. Firenze lay on his side on the platform, his flank streaming with blood. Seamus spotted someone with blonde hair lying on a cot—

He ran down the length of the hall, weaving between groups of war-battered survivors, but he was blocked from stepping up onto the dais by an older man.

"We need room to work," he said.

"But I need—I think that's my friend, I need—" Seamus started.

"Shea," croaked another voice.

He turned to see Parvati standing beside him, her eyes swollen and puffy from crying. He wrapped her up in his arms, and her body shook with sobs.

"Is she…" Seamus started, but he didn't know what to say.

"She was a-at-tacked by that w-werewolf," Parvati cried. "They d-d-don't know if sh-she'll make it."

Tears burned in his eyes as he laid his cheek on her bald head, which was covered in soft peach fuzz. His eyes swept over the Great Hall, and his heart dropped out of his stomach when he recognized Lupin and his wife laying on the ground beside the mourning Weasleys. His mind briefly flitted to their newborn baby, but he pushed those thoughts aside. If he thought any harder about it, he'd be shattered, and he needed to continue on.

"Luna's all right, we came here together," he said. "Have you seen anyone else?"

"Padma's helping get herbs and plants from the greenhouses," she replied, pulling away from him and wiping her cheeks. "Neville's helping get the…the bodies. Hermione—"

"She's right there," he said, nodding toward the Weasleys. "And Dean?"

Parvati shook her head. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Seamus? Seamus?!" a voice bellowed. "SEAMUS?!"

"Dean!" Seamus shouted back, and their eyes met from across the hall.

They began running for each other, darting and ducking around until they met in the middle. Dean's arms wrapped around his middle, and in his momentum he lifted Seamus up, spinning him around in euphoria and relief. Dean's face pressed against Seamus' neck, and Seamus buried his face against Dean's shoulder.

After a few rotations, Dean set him down and kissed him fiercely before Seamus could even get a word out.

"I was out of my mind with worry," Dean murmured, their foreheads pressed together. "I didn't know—"

"I'm alright," Seamus said. "I'm alright. I'm here. I'm with you. It's—"

He was going to say it was okay, but it wasn't, really. Not when Lupin and his wife were dead, and Lavender was almost dead, and they still had a long fight left ahead of them.

"We're going to get through it," he said instead. "We'll get through it together."

Dean nodded. "Together," he repeated.

HPHPHP

When their hour's respite passed, everybody was back in position. Some of the more skilled Order members and professors stood guard outside the Great Hall. Students lined the corridors, others went back to the spots they'd been fighting earlier. Shoulders tense, eyes alert, but nothing came. It was still silent in the castle, with no movement on the horizon, and that made it all the worse.

"What's happening?" Seamus whispered, afraid if he broke the silence then he'd break the peace.

"Maybe they're messing with us," Dean said. "Hoping we lower our guard."

They waited longer, and longer. The minutes bled by, ticking almost audibly in Seamus' ears. Then, he heard a sound he didn't want to hear for the rest of his life. Voldemort's voice floated through the air again.

"Harry Potter is dead," Voldemort announced.

A loud buzzing filled Seamus' head as he tried to process this information. He blocked out the rest of what Voldemort was saying, not wanting to believe it. Harry, dead? It couldn't be. When had he last seen Harry, anyway? Not since they'd saved him at the edge of the forest, and that was hours ago.

Voldemort stopped talking, and Seamus could hear murmuring and crying filled the corridors. He heard footsteps, and then Dean tugged Seamus along. They joined the crowd heading for the entrance courtyard. All of their faces were strained and dirty and tear-streaked.

"NO!" screamed a woman, and Seamus recognized it as Professor McGonagall. Others began screaming as they walked out the doors, and Seamus wouldn't have walked out if it wasn't for Dean pulling him along.

As they stepped into the light of early dawn, Seamus saw the line of Death Eaters stretched out before them as they formed a similar line before the entrance of the castle. And there, in front, was a man so hideous and nightmareish that there was only one person he could be.

Voldemort was taller than Seamus had imagined, with sickly pale skin that was almost translucent in places. His face was flat, almost like the giant snake that was draped over his shoulders, and even from this distance he could tell the man had gleaming red eyes. Seamus head to tear his eyes away from the horrific vision of him, and he noticed the two giants standing behind the Death Eaters, and then, in front-

"Dean," Seamus said, grabbing his hand. "Dean, Dean, what's Hag—what's Hagrid carrying, Dean—what—"

"SILENCE!" Voldemort screamed. There was a noise like a bang, a flash of light, and then none of them could speak anymore.

Seamus watched in horror as Voldemort commanded Hagrid to lay Harry's lifeless body at his feet, then proceeded to blither on about how Harry was just a simple boy.

"He beat you!" Ron suddenly shouted, breaking the charm cast on them all.

Seamus and Dean and everybody else began shouting as well, but then Voldemort cast his silencing spell again.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds, killed while trying to save himself—"

There was a jostling in the crowd to Dean and Seamus' left, and to their dismay they saw Neville break free of the line of survivors, charging straight at Voldemort. In another second, Neville was Disarmed and on the ground, and Voldemort was laughing.

Seamus watched in horror as Voldemort approached Neville. He still couldn't speak, otherwise he'd scream for Neville to get out of there, to run while he still could. He was still in shock that it was _Neville_ of all people who'd run at the Dark Lord when all of them stood paralyzed with fear.

"I'll join you when hell freezes over. Dumbledore's Army!" Neville screamed, throwing his fist in the air.

The Silencing Charm broke again, and they all roared their support for Neville, for their cause, despite all they'd lost. Voldemort's expression went steely as he leaned in closer to Neville. He said something, but it was too quiet for the rest of them to hear.

Suddenly, something crashed in the castle, and flying out of one of the windows was some sort of bird, but when it flew over to Voldemort and laid itself in his hand, Seamus recognized the ragged form of the Sorting Hat.

Voldemort announced his plan to get rid of the Houses and essentially turn Hogwarts into a shrine to Salazar Slytherin. Then he shoved the Hat onto Neville's head and pointed his wand at him. Everybody grew tense, also wanting to charge forward, but the Death Eaters raised their wands to keep them in line.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," Voldemort informed them, and then he set the boy on fire.

Screams of terror and rage rose up from their crowd, and Neville kneeled there, his head covered in flames. Seamus pulled his wand out and took a step forward, and that's when the centaurs arrived.

They felt the rumbling vibrations of hundreds of hooves before they heard the battle cries, and then a huge herd of centaurs came bursting out of the treeline. The smaller giant they'd seen earlier was with them, and Voldemort's giants charged him immediately. Arrows rained on the Death Eaters, who broke formation, and everything started happening.

The survivors—the students, professors, Order members, and more—all charged forward as Neville broke free of his Body-Bind, and threw the hat off of him. He saw something flying above them, and recognized creatures he'd only seen in drawings. Great black, skeletal horses that he assumed were thestrals, along with a somewhat familiar hippogriff, began swarming around the giants' heads. Then Voldemort screamed, and Seamus saw that Neville had cut off the head of his snake with a—wait, where had he gotten a sword?

Suddenly there was more shouting, and beyond the crowd of Death Eaters Seamus could see reinforcements coming up the front steps to the castle. Hogsmeade shopkeepers, parents, friends, all began to swarm the enemy from behind and all sides. The Death Eaters had no choice but to move closer to the castle.

Voldemort cut through the crowd, cursing and jinxing everything out of his way as he went straight into the Great Hall. Now there were more fighters than Death Eaters, and Dean and Seamus had to retreat into the castle to keep out of the duelers' way.

Ron's mother was fighting the scary witch Seamus knew to be Bellatrix Lestrange, and they shot their volleys of spells so quickly Seamus was getting dizzy. Finally, though, Mrs. Weasley's spell hit Lestrange straight in the chest, and she toppled over as everyone cheered.

"We're winning," Dean said breathlessly. "Even without Harry, we're—"

" _Protego!_ " someone shouted, and a Shield Charm popped up between Mrs. Weasley and the furious Voldemort.

Everyone looked around for the source of the familiar voice, and then Harry appeared in the middle of the hall, his famous Invisibility Cloak clutched in his hand. The screams and cheers of elation almost deafened Seamus, but they went silent immediately as Harry and Voldemort began to circle each other.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Seamus heard Harry say loudly, and he thought that message was particularly aimed at Ron and Hermione, who were gripping each other's arms at the far end of the hall, their faces stricken with joy and fear.

They continued to face off, calling jeers back and forth. Harry seemed remarkably calm for someone who had just returned from the dead. He taunted Voldemort with surprising confidence, and Voldemort was clearly rattled. He thought he'd won, and now he'd been humiliated in front of all his followers and enemies.

As they argued, it became clear that the rest of them were irrelevant. They were locked in their conversation, saying things Seamus didn't understand, talking about protection and love and Dumbledore and Snape. Snape had loved Harry's mother? Dumbledore asked Snape to kill him? There was something called an Elder Wand?

The sun finally rose above the horizon, and red-gold light flooded through the windows into the Hall. Voldemort waved his wand, his voice a wicked screech, and Harry cast his spell too.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

Seamus registered dimly in the back of his mind that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had chosen to use a second year spell of all things against the darkest wizard who ever lived, but that thought quickly left his mind because _it worked_.

Their spells met with an explosion of light and sound, and Voldemort's wand flew out of his hand, spinning in an arc toward Harry, who caught it easily. They watched in hope and terror as Voldemort toppled over backwards, his arms out to his side, as he hit the ground with a thud of incredible finality.


	23. Chapter 23

_[content warning: misgendering, almost deadnaming, discussion of past transphobia]_

They waited a moment, unsure, unbelieving, and then they screamed and cheered. Tumultuous applause and sobs of joy spilled out of them as the sun continued to rise, dying everything gold with its light. The crowd surged toward Harry, and he quickly disappeared underneath the mass of arms and bodies trying to congratulate him.

Voldemort's body was moved out of the Hall, and the bodies of the fallen still lined the center of the room. McGonagall summoned the House tables back, and everybody sat in groups throughout the Hall. Pomfrey and St. Mungo's healers and various other helpers still worked on the wounded at the front. Parvati was up on the dais, holding Lavender's hand, whose unwounded eye was open and blinking. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were nowhere to be found, but that wasn't unusual. Neville was sitting by his sword, surrounded by new admirers and being praised by his grandmother.

All around them were the dead and the wounded, the battered and the living. People cried tears of joy and tears of sorrow. It was a gathering of celebrators, of mourners, and of something in between.

Parents and family members and friends continued flooding into the castle. It appeared that word of the nightlong battle had reached all of the outside world, and adults and owls poured consistently into the Great Hall. Most were coming to pick up their children and take them home, away from the nightmares and the memories. A train would be coming tomorrow morning to take everybody else.

McGonagall had put up postings that the school year would end early and final exams would be cancelled. A special round of O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams would be held in July, and anyone who wished to repeat their year would be allowed to do so, but nobody had to. Order members who weren't badly injured left almost immediately after the battle to go to the Ministry to round up known Voldemort supporters there, and Seamus smiled at the thought of Umbridge in Azkaban. House elves flitted around bringing food and drinks to everyone. Some ate hungrily, and some couldn't bring themselves to eat even one morsel.

"So what now?" Dean asked.

"What d'ye mean?"

"Well—"

"Sio—Sea—Finnigan!" someone screamed hysterically as they came into the Hall. "Finnigan! Finnigan?!"

Seamus sat frozen on the bench, his fingers intertwined with Dean's. His mother looked more frazzled than he'd ever seen her in his life. Her curly strawberry blonde hair was in a frizz around her face, her eyes strained as she scanned the hall, her hands shaking as she gripped her tote bag.

"Finnigan!" she screamed again, and Seamus stood up, still holding tightly to Dean's hand.

Her eyes went right to him, and he flinched. He hadn't seen his mother in eleven months. He'd thought about her occasionally, wondered if she was thinking of him, if she missed him, if she regretted their fight. Mrs. Finnigan's chest started heaving when she saw him, and she brought her shaking free hand up to her mouth as tears fell from her eyes.

"My girl!" she cried, running forward and wrapping him in her arms.

Seamus stiffened and didn't return the embrace, though every bone in his body wanted to. He wanted to tell her to forget everything he'd said last June, to ignore everything and push it down, just so he could be loved by his mother again. It wasn't so bad before, right? And if she was happy and loved him, wouldn't he be happy?

But he felt Dean's hand still in his, Dean's thumb rubbing rhythmic circles in his skin. Seamus squeezed Dean's hand once, then let go and used both of his hands to gently break his mother's hold.

She stared at him with shock and worry in her eyes, gripping his face with her hands. "Sio—um, _asthore_ ," she said, "have ye seen the healers yet? Ye're hurt. And ye're so skinny, where have ye been all this time? I didn't know if ye were alive or dead, and I wrote to the school but never got any replies—"

"I've been on the run," Seamus replied, "with Dean."

Mrs. Finnigan seemed to notice Dean for the first time, her eyes dimly recognizing him from the two times they'd met before. "Dean. Right."

"He's Muggle-born—or thought he was, at least," Seamus said, glancing at Dean. Dean looked down. They hadn't had much time to talk about or process the revelation that Dean's biological father was a wizard after all. "We knew they'd go after him, and we figured they wouldn't like a trans poofter like me either," Seamus added, his voice gaining a sharp edge.

"Dearie, please," she said. "Let's not do—"

"Last time I saw ye, ye said I couldn't come home unless I dropped this 'being a boy' nonsense," Seamus said, heat rising in his face. "But it's not nonsense, Mam. It's who I am."

"Darling, ye've no idea how I regret—"

"Ye can regret all ye want, but I need ye to accept me!" Seamus exclaimed. "I'm a gay man, and Dean is my boyfriend."

Mrs. Finnigan's eyes flashed to Dean again, and he shrunk back like he didn't want to be included in this just yet.

"I-I know, I…I love ye so much. I can't lose ye, and I…I'm willing to try," she said. "I can't pretend to understand all of this or what it means, but I promise I'll try. Come home, dearie, come home, and I'll try."

Seamus' eyes filled with tears, but he shook his head, and her hands fell from his cheeks. "I can't. I can't get sucked back in again."

"Sio—Seamus. Seamus, right? I couldn't remember," Mrs. Finnigan mumbled. He'd never seen her so unsure of herself.

He nodded. "Yeah, Seamus."

"I like it," Mrs. Finnigan said. "A good, strong name."

The tears began to fall, and he rubbed his hands over his eyes. His chest ached painfully, but he kept on.

"Seamus, I love ye. Please, let's—"

"If ye try, Mam, and I mean really try, then ye won't lose me," Seamus said. "I love ye, too, and this is hard for me. But I can't go home. If I go home, then it'll be too easy to be who I was, not who I am."

"But where will ye go?"

"He'll stay with me," Dean said, standing up finally. "And my parents and sisters."

Mrs. Finnigan eyed him. "And yer parents…do they…"

"They know everything," Dean replied. "We were staying with them before we went on the run."

She nodded slowly. "But…"

"I'll write to ye," Seamus said. "I'll visit, too. I just need to be on my own, Mam. Especially after all this."

"I…I understand," she replied. "I'm so sorry ye had to face all this on yer own. I'm so proud of ye." Her hand came up to cup the side of his face. "So proud."

The tears flowed freely from Seamus' cheeks now, and he reached out and hugged his mother. Her arms wrapped around him, so familiar, so comforting, and he let himself drown in how much he'd missed her over the past months.

Finally, when the tears slowed to a halt, her hands stopped rubbing his back, and they pulled apart from each other.

"Well," she said with a weak smile, and he could tell she'd been crying too. "I suppose I'll go home, then. Are ye staying?"

Seamus looked at Dean, and then nodded. "Yeah, we'll take the train tomorrow."

"Write when ye arrive safe, please."

"Yes, Mam."

She nodded slowly. "I'll just ask Minerva if there's anything I can do to help, then I'll be on my way." She laid her hand on his cheek. "I love ye, S-Seamus. I love ye, my…my child."

It wasn't _son_ , but it wasn't _daughter_ either. It was progress. His face cracked into yet another smile. "Thank ye, Mam. I love ye too."

Mrs. Finnigan kissed his cheek, then walked to the entrance hall where McGonagall was directing the flow of foot traffic. Seamus watched her go with a longing look, and then turned and buried his face in Dean's chest. Dean's arms came up around his shoulders, and Seamus cried again. He didn't cry for long, though. He guessed his body might finally be all out of tears.

Seamus thought about his body for a moment, and the way it felt pressed against Dean's. He hadn't realized when, but at some point in the year he'd stopped thinking about it as a female body and just thought of his as his body. And he was stunned by the realization that he actually liked his body.

He was proud of the muscles he'd gained through travel and hard work, proud of the way it had kept going even when he'd thought it couldn't. There was nothing actually wrong with the body he had. Society told him that his soul and the shape of his body didn't match, but society also told him that he shouldn't love Dean, so what did society really know anyway?

"You have the strongest heart of anyone I know," Dean murmured.

Seamus smiled, remembering back to his Sorting seven years ago, when the sorting hat said he had strength of heart and put him in Gryffindor, and when McGonagall said his strength of heart was inspiring last year.

He thought about all his heart had endured. Bullying, unrequited love, jealousy, betrayal, war, death, and more, and yet it was still beating. There it was, pounding away in his chest, an ever-present reminder that he was alive, that he was here in this moment. _How easy it is_ , Seamus thought, _to forget about your own heart. Ye forget to appreciate it as the miracle it is._

Seamus pulled away and looked up at him, and then Dean leaned down and kissed him. Seamus' heart swelled with love, with true love, and he knew then that his heart could survive anything, especially if Dean was by his side.

So it was then that they decided, without words, that they'd face whatever came tomorrow, and the next day, and all the days after that, and they'd do it together, with their hearts beating as one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you to everyone who's supported me and my writing through the years. I hope you're all staying safe out there, and that you know you have unbelievable strength in your hearts as well.
> 
> ~Ki
> 
> [My tumblr](http://kiconwrites.tumblr.com)


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